Elysium: Becoming Shepard
by Ms Sticha
Summary: A young woman forced to take shore leave must face her true nature to find her hidden strength. An exploration of Shepard's Elysium background.
1. Chapter 1

This was the first story I'd ever written and posted, but it needed a lot of work. I am currently rewriting it and will post the chapters as I complete them.

* * *

The cloudless blue sky stretched as far as the eye could see, heavy with the sweet scent of fresh fruits and lush foliage, but not overwhelmingly so; the salty breeze across the bodies of water cut the sweetness and yet, somehow, made it more perfect. The waves rolled, crashing against the shores; the steady rhythm the primal heartbeat of the planet. Everything moved to this beat, slow and steady, and created beautiful, natural music that somehow eased the most stressed minds. The warm, butter yellow sun reflected off the pool water, dancing in time with the rippling waves in brilliant flashes of light that twinkled across the stone walls and vibrant flowering plants strategically placed along the deck to create the feeling of privacy for each visitor. Elysium was every bit as beautiful as the travel vids and Jenna had promised, but none of that really seemed to matter. Shepard was completely miserable.

Shepard was a spacer, born and raised on alliance vessels, and all this fresh air and sunshine was hard to adjust to. That alone she could handle, eventually. It wasn't like she'd never been on Earth, or any 'resort' planet. It didn't matter, though. Every single thing about this trip pissed her off. Shepard sighed dramatically, the sound echoing off her little alcove only adding to her irritation. She ground her teeth, the tensing of her jaw making her head ache. It was the perfect storm of misery. From her perch under a gaudy sunshade in an uncomfortable lounge chair with the straps digging in to her exposed flesh, she watched her friend devolve into a helpless giggling girl hanging from a local guy's neck. It was enough to make her want to gag. And she didn't even want to be here in the first place.

Word came down from the top brass that Shepard was 'strongly encouraged' to take the shore leave she'd been putting off for the past year. Both of her parent's fingerprints were all over this one, but there was no proof, no appeals, and no getting out of it. Her friend and crewmate, Corporal Jenna Morgan, was there when she got the orders, and jumped at the chance to play travel agent as long as she could tag along. It sounded like a fair trade, so she agreed and Jenna handled every minute detail. It was nice not having to plan everything, to just show up when told. From the very beginning, Shepard had only one demand: they travel under aliases. She just wanted to be able to leave shore leave completely behind them once it was over – a 'what happens on Elysium, stays on Elysium' mentality. It was a lot harder for a one-night-stand to find you if they were going off a fake name and altered appearance. It was also easier to keep feelings completely out of it if you knew it was just a fling. That was all Shepard wanted. Jenna jumped at the idea, seeing it as a way to live out some fantasy or something. Her motivation really didn't matter, as long as the feelings behind it were honored. She readily agreed and handled that part as well, but Shepard now regretted giving her friend total control. Jenna had a way of taking things too far.

The outfit currently crisscrossing Shepard's body was proof of that. Little more than thin strips of some shiny red fabric, the 'swimsuit' was like nothing she'd ever worn before – or even considered. In fact, Shepard laughed when the ribbons of material were originally thrust in her face. She couldn't tell what it was supposed to be (as it looked like a gift passed through a shredder) let alone how she was supposed to tangle herself in the thin straps and be able to breathe without showing her goods to everyone. However, Jenna argued that was the point; it was something Shepard would never wear, so it would fit her alter-ego perfectly. They'd already changed Shepard's bright red hair to a golden blonde for the trip, so backing down now would just be silly. Besides, the color looked great against her creamy complexion but she'd never be able to pull it off as a redhead, and her body would only defy gravity for so long. It was the only time she'd get away with such a bold bathing suit – a now or never kind of deal. Jenna sighed dramatically when Shepard chose never, and somehow Jenna managed to win. Something neither of them considered as they wrestled Shepard's lithe frame into the sorry excuse for a garment was the sun's effects on all that exposed spacer skin.

The giant umbrella overhead seemed to be doing next to nothing to protect her fair skin from the hot, powerful rays. She'd already learned the hard way that sunscreen alone was not enough for her spacer complexion, so this was the best solution aside from staying indoors completely, which she'd argued vehemently for. Unfortunately, Jenna was rather persuasive when she wanted to be, and loud and whiny when that didn't work. The end result was the same – Shepard was stuck on the pool deck, doing her best to avoid impersonating a lobster (which was a frighteningly evil looking creature Jenna unsuccessfully tried to convince her to eat). The last thing she needed was for her skin to match the straps of shiny red fabric that was passing for a bathing suit. It was skimpy enough as it was. There was no need to have it blend in completely and make her look as utterly exposed as she felt.

Discomfort briefly interrupted Shepard's gloomy ruminations. She shifted in an attempt to free her exposed flesh from the lounge chair, which seemed to be doing its best to fuse with her; two separate objects made one in an unholy union straight from the depths of hell. Either that or the chair was trying to devour her whole. She wasn't certain which option was correct, but she was pretty sure the answer laid at the bottom of another bottle of beer.

Unfortunately, several trays within the alcove were bare, as was the cooler. A small city of towers made entirely of empty bottles covered the stone patio to her side, but she was still completely and frustratingly sober.

"Figures," Shepard mumbled to herself as she slammed the cooler lid. " _This_ is why I hate shore leave."

"Did you need something?" A tall, shapely asari paused at the foot of Shepard's chair.

"Sorry, I was just lamenting the fact that my drinks ran dry." Shepard forced a smile as she answered. It was difficult, considering how acutely aware she was that her suit left less to the imagination than the scantily-clad (and almost embarrassingly well-endowed) azure waitress in front of her.

"Now that's a problem I can fix," the asari assured. "Your dates have a running tab and told us to take care of everything."

Shepard wasn't completely surprised by that revelation; the local guys they'd paired up with plied them with alcohol all weekend. She'd gotten the impression that this was part of their gig – children of rich locals picking up lonely tourists and showing them a good time. Either that or they were in for the long-haul con, considering the small fortune they'd already laid down on drinks. They'd bought round upon round to get her and Jenna drunk just since they'd been at the pool, but Shepard's biotic metabolism burned it off before she could so much as get a buzz.

"Here you go dear. This should just about do it for _you_ ," the waitress winked as she set a fully-loaded tray on the table.

A small thrill (or was it panic?) shot through Shepard. The waitress understood her need and wordlessly took care of it without outing her. The entire time they'd been on leave Shepard kept pace with the others so nobody would even suspect she was a biotic – a _freak_. That was how most others saw biotics. As a result, she did everything in her power to fit in, to hide her true nature. The last person who knew – the only person aside from her immediate family and her best friend, Joker – yelled that insult at her as he threw her out and ended their relationship. There was no hiding from other biotics, though. The waitress was proof of that.

Shepard lifted her wrist, desperate for a distraction. She had to find something, _anything_ , to keep her mind from wandering into that dark territory. Waking up Joker was a perfect solution, especially since he failed to back her up in her fight against shore leave, but rather sided with her parents for once. He should be held at least partially responsible.

Her wrist was empty. As empty as she felt. That's when she remembered: they'd left all their electronics back in the safety of their locked room. And now she was left with nothing but her thoughts.

She threw herself back against the lounge chair with a dramatic sigh. There was no escape for her. Everywhere she looked the faces of content couples stared back, taunting her. It was the one thing she feared the most – the one reason she'd avoided shore leave for so long. She wasn't ready to face this torment. The wounds were too fresh.

Hell, even Jenna was guilty. The whole concept of 'one night stand' was lost on the brunette, who continued to giggle and shriek from the deep end of the pool. The two local guys they picked up at a swanky bar their first night ashore had been a constant presence ever since. Shepard didn't even know their names, and really didn't care enough to find out. As far as she was concerned, their time together was done. Both the men sensed that and had written her off anyway. To be fair, she _had_ nearly broken the tall guy's nose when he tried to carry her to the pool. However, that was after he'd pulled her onto his lap several times and announced he was going to get her wet one way or another. He had it coming. So now both men focused their attention on Jenna, vying for her affection.

So Shepard sat in an uncomfortable chair under the umbrella, alone as usual. At least she had enough drinks to render the average man unconscious to keep her company. But they couldn't stop her thoughts. And so her mind went the one place she dreaded most.

 _Bags at her feet, hand hovering over the hotel room door, butterflies danced in Shepard's stomach. Months of planning finally came to fruition. They'd somehow managed to steal a little time away to be together, just the two of them. The door slid open of its own accord, before she was prepared. There he stood. His mocha skin and dark eyes noticeably warmed the air with his mere presence. Or maybe it was just the flush that crept up her skin at the sight of him. Their eyes locked. Shepard's heart pounded until she was sure it would escape. It had been months since they'd even managed to hear one another's voices; pictures and messages had gotten them through, but they'd been a sorry substitute. Their bodies quivered in anticipation. Being this close and not touching was too much. Passion overtook them. Shepard's body tingled with need, her biotics barely under control as their bodies crushed together over the threshold._

 _Simon swept Shepard into his arms and carried her to the bed, unwilling and unable to wait a moment longer. They were lost in the moment, rediscovering one another. The world ceased to exist. Then it happened: she flared. It was nothing more than a soft blue light dancing across her bare flesh, like steam off hot pavement after a storm and equally innocuous. It was simply a manifestation of her joy and passion. But it was too much._

 _Simon's face contorted with fear. All the promises of loving her no matter what, of understanding and accepting 'her condition' flew out the door the moment he faced the reality of her biotics. He pushed her aside with enough force to knock the air from her lungs as she hit the floor. He vanished before she even gained her feet._

 _"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, but I was in total control," she cried through the door._

 _The sounds of retching were his only response. He was so disgusted by her very nature he got violently, physically ill. Nothing said or done to her up to that point rivaled the pain that welled in her heart from that primal reaction. That hurt more than she'd ever been hurt before._

 _The sobs started from deep within, emerging from her very core. There was no resistance. They were stronger than she was._

 _"I'd never hurt you," she choked out between her tears, but there was no answer. She lay prone on the floor, the sobs wracking her frame until her strength left her completely._

 _The door finally swung open after what felt like forever. All sense of time had been lost. Simon emerged fully dressed in his Alliance blues. His dark eyes fell on her naked frame silently shaking at his feet on the cold, tiled floor._

 _"Get out, freak," he hissed at her, voice hard and cold. He spit at her, the wet droplets splattering across her face and blending with her tears, and then left the room._

Shepard jumped. The drink dropped from her hand and shattered on the stones, the mere memory of the door closing behind Simon still eliciting an immediate physical response after so much time. It was so harsh, so final. He'd requested transfer, so as to be as far away from Shepard as humanly possible, and it was granted. He was placed as security for a small research facility deep in the Skillian Verge and it was attacked by Blue Suns not long after the transfer. There were no survivors.

That memory of her last shore leave was all she had left of the only man she'd loved, and it haunted her.

And there it was, the reason she avoided anything more than an anonymous fling, the reason she avoided shore leave all together. And now she was forced to face her demons alone and sober. The ridiculously large sunglasses perched on Shepard's nose hid the tears gathering in her eyes, threatening to spill over. In that moment Shepard hated everyone. She hated Simon for making her feel so humiliated, so unlovable. She hated her parents and Joker for pushing her to take shore leave. She hated the happy couples enjoying Elysium's beauty while she suffered. She hated Jenna for leaving her alone, for being so loveable to others. But most of all, Shepard hated herself. At least she was comfortably numb, thanks to the waitress. She had to be thankful for the little things.

Shepard grabbed another drink from the tray, unwilling to face everything sober if at all possible. Her eyes drifted over to her friend playing in the pool as she took a long gulp of the bitter drink – almost as bitter as she felt. Jenna laughed without a care in the world, the joyous sound free and melodic. Jealousy washed over Shepard in sickening waves.

Jenna didn't stick to the plan and ditch the guys after the first night because she didn't _have_ to. She could let people get close, and people _wanted_ to get close. She was open and real. She had nothing to fear, nothing to hide. Everything was so easy for her.

Shepard's skin began to tingle as the petty thoughts swam through her head. Her biotics had been pent up for far too long – ever since that fateful night, in fact. They were looking for any crack in her resolve through which to escape, and the combination of jealousy and alcohol were a good start. She glanced around frantically to see who noticed. Fortunately, it was a sunny day and everyone was occupied with their own fun. Her little light show didn't attract so much as a fleeting look. Relieved, she took a deep, cleansing breath and felt the tell-tale loosening of her muscles.

"About time the booze kicked in," Shepard muttered as she leaned back and got as comfortable as possible. She upended her drink, draining it in one gulp as she tried to relax. The ambient noises, the shrieks, splashes, and giggles, combined to form a buzz of white noise. It should've been the perfect background for a drink-fueled nap, but it wouldn't work. There was something off, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. The alcohol clouded her mind so she couldn't concentrate enough to figure it out. She didn't want to. The warmth, combined with the alcohol finally pulled at her. Sleep beckoned, and she gladly followed. She could escape into her dreams, if nothing else.

Everything snapped into focus. The shrieks… they were real. She knew that sound anywhere. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, burning off the alcohol and leaving her sharp and focused, her training kicking in like second nature.

Something was wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, why don't you go hang out with your own date?" The seemingly innocent question radiated annoyance with the hint of a threat. The young man glared at his friend over the woman hanging from his neck, unwilling to compete for the affections he'd already won.

"Who, the fun sponge?" the other man asked incredulously, jerking his thumb in the direction of the pool deck as he circled the young couple predatorily. Jenna lifted her head from the crook of the first man's neck and shushed the obnoxious interloper, her inebriated state making the sound louder and harsher than intended, but it didn't faze him. "What? She's passed out or sleeping or something."

"Or maybe she's just pretending to avoid you…" Jenna muttered into her companion's neck, low enough he heard while the intended target remained oblivious, and then they both laughed quietly, intimately. That only seemed to rile the other man up more.

"Look, I didn't pick her up for her personality…"

"Damn it, Jayden, why do you have to be such an ass?" the first guy hissed as he glanced at Shepard's still form, searching for any indication she'd heard, but she remained immobile.

"Well, _Robby_ , I intended to leave the ice queen behind the next morning. It's your fault I'm stuck in this situation," he spat; the alcohol slurred his speech and loosened his tongue enough to let the hard truth fly. "I could be out there picking up any lust-filled tourist that caught my eye, but I'm stuck here keeping that bitch occupied so you can have your fun."

Shepard rolled her eyes, the small movement hidden behind the large, dark sunglasses. She'd heard the whole thing. Everyone around the pool heard it all, based on the strange glances cast their direction, but that didn't matter – she'd never see any of those strangers again, anyway. Shepard couldn't care less that the lanky jerk didn't like her and wanted to hit-it-and-quit-it. That'd been her plan all along as well. That was probably the only thing the two had in common, aside from an obvious dislike for one another. What she _did_ care about was the fact that their little spat in the middle of the pool was making it impossible to hear the noises that'd caught her attention in the first place.

The little tiff between friends had devolved into a staring match, leaving the entire pool deck in an awkward silence since everyone in sight had been eavesdropping. That's when she heard it again.

Shepard jumped up from the lounge chair in one fluid motion, her sunglasses falling by the wayside, forgotten. The chair's thick straps held on to her bare skin until they could stretch no further, leaving angry red marks along her body that created a chaotic pattern with the shiny red lines of her suit, but it didn't slow her down. The second her bare feet hit the pavement she launched over the empty bottles, clearing the glass towers easily. She would've appeared as a blur to anyone watching, her naturally fast reflexes honed to perfection; her sudden stillness even more disconcerting. Her body froze, a motionless porcelain statue at the corner of the pool. Head cocked to one side, Shepard listened intently, trying to separate the sounds that alarmed her from the rest of the ambient chaos of Elysium. Her taut muscles coiled under her skin, ready to pounce.

"Hey, what's wrong with Shana?"

"Who's Shana?" Jenna giggled as she pulled back enough to look into her companion's face, but he didn't respond; his eyes focused intently on something or someone in the distance. She frowned, dropping her arms from around his neck to follow his gaze, and finally landed on Shepard's still form. "Oh yeah, _Shana_ ," she lamely tried to cover her fumble. It was the alter-ego she'd unwittingly saddled Shepard with the first night ashore, the result of a panicked scramble to come up with a name that started with 'Sh' after she began to introduce her now-blonde friend by her actual name. Now she'd almost blown it yet again.

Jenna searched her companion's face to see if he noticed. Fortunately, Robby had not. The sudden change in Shepard's demeanor had his undivided attention to the point he probably hadn't heard Jenna speak at all.

"Maybe she's trying to pull the stick out of her ass," the smarmy reply came from a short distance away.

Both Jenna and Robby dragged their gaze away from Shepard long enough to throw withering glares at the taller man, but Jayden was unrepentant. His thin lips pulled into a cocky half-grin as he shrugged one tanned shoulder dismissively. Robby pulled away from Jenna and waded over to his friend, shaking his head in disbelief and annoyance, and then smacked Jayden upside the head. A hushed conversation ensued, mainly a string of expletives, but Jenna tuned it out. Her dark brown eyes widened as she turned her focus back to her friend. Shepard was definitely on alert, and that usually meant trouble. A chill slid down her spine as she tried desperately to pull herself into sobriety.

A troubled look danced across Shepard's face as her hands flew to her head in a flash, deftly pulling her long blonde hair into a tight ponytail. Her bright green eyes twinkled brilliantly as they scanned the surroundings with laser-like focus. While their hue blended perfectly with the lush surroundings, the shock of color within her pale frame exotic and alluring, her appearance was fierce and intimidating as her gaze settled on the bar at the far side of the pool. She was off in a flash, her lithe legs pushing her forward with speed and purpose.

"Shepard, what the hell is going on?" Jenna yelled after the rapidly retreating form of her friend. She didn't wait for an answer; she knew it most likely wouldn't come. Shepard was a woman of action and it was up to Jenna to keep up, so she pulled herself out of the pool with as much grace and speed as she could muster under the circumstances. She'd just gained her feet when a yelp echoed throughout the deck, emanating from the bar. Jenna glanced over just in time to see Shepard disappear through a wide arch, the sun reflecting off a metallic object in a hand that had just been bare. The confused bartender yelled after her, his partially chopped pineapple rocking back and forth on the bar.

"Please let me be overreacting," Shepard muttered to herself as she jogged down the tight alleyway, but she knew that wasn't the case. That was why she stole the chef's knife – it was all she had available. It would do in a pinch if the need arose before she reached the resort's guard station. It was only a few blocks away, and it would have a fully stocked (albeit small) armory. It was the direction she'd heard the most recent yells, so it was on the way… but she'd yet to hear any signs of the guards. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end as her instincts put it all together. The most recent yells were sudden, full of surprise, and cut off too soon. They weren't the terrified shrieks she'd heard originally, and somehow that made them worse.

A sudden crush of people fleeing blindly in pure panic almost knocked her over as she rounded the corner. They scurried like mice, only the pounding of their feet echoing between the quaint buildings as they surged forward. Something was clearly wrong. Shepard pressed the knife flat against her bare thigh to prevent any unfortunate accidents as she struggled against the rushing current of bodies, determined to find the cause of the panic and help in any way she could.

Shepard slowed as she neared a corner, ducking behind a refuse bin to take in the surroundings rather than plowing blindly into the open. The once-bustling main street stretched in front of her, now completely desolate. The entrance to the guard station was right around the corner, achingly close, but eerily silent. She had to be sure it was safe. Holding her breath, she pushed her senses to the limit, straining for any clues. A small noise caught her attention – someone was coming up from behind. Crouching low, she spun on her heel, knife held shoulder-high in a backward grip.

Jenna pulled up short, just out of reach. "What the hell is going on, Shepard?" she whispered hoarsely.

Shepard held up a hand for silence and gestured for Jenna to listen around the corner. A few rough growls shattered the silence, followed by shuffling and slamming, all emanating from the station. She looked over her shoulder and held up three fingers; Jenna nodded. Lowering herself down to all fours, she peered around the bin, doing her best to ignore the discomfort of her suit slipping into areas they were meant to cover. Shadows flitted about the street farther away, jerking sporadically as if engaged in a scuffle, but she couldn't make out how many or how far. She strained to get a better view without drawing attention.

Heavy footfalls echoed between the buildings from behind. Someone was approaching rapidly, and the movement in the guard station stilled at the sound. Shepard froze as well, her position too exposed and awkward to do anything else aside from hope Jenna had her back.

Jenna spun, hopeful she was sober enough to handle whatever came their way. Shock, rapidly followed by relief, coursed through her as she found the two local guys – their dates – lumbering towards them, faces red with exertion. But they were too clumsy, too unaware of their surroundings, their every movement as loud as a pack of varren in the desolate environment. She frantically gestured for them to stop, or at least quiet down their approach, but it was for naught. They were civilians, not accustomed to silent communications. All they knew was that their dates disappeared with haste right before panicked tourists fled the streets.

Robby knelt by Jenna, his eyes searching her face for answers as Jayden leered past them at the alabaster expanse of skin exposed by the shift in Shepard's suit. Then his eyes settled on the knife. All the color drained from his sun-kissed skin as he put the pieces together and somehow came up with a completely incorrect picture.

"Who the hell are you guys, really? I heard you call her some other name… Shepard or something." Jayden's eyes widened as he realized where they were – that the woman with whom he'd had a brief, purely physical fling was inching up on the guard station, knife in hand. "I don't know what the hell you're up to, but I'll make sure it doesn't work. Guards!"

A heavy boot stepped in front of Shepard, so close she could see the dried dirt along the sole crumble from the impact and fall away in a cloud of tan dust that immediately irritated her eyes. She'd yet to move from her awkward position; her body crouched low with the knife firmly under the hand supporting most of her weight. She pushed backwards as forcefully as possible, desperate to put as much space between herself and whoever stood before her. The boot was faster. It kicked out – hard – and connected with her right eyebrow. Stars swam in her vision as she felt her skin give way. Blood spilled into her eye, distorting her vision, but she could tell the boot was pulling back for another go. Her arm arced out wildly in defense, the bright glint as the metal caught the sun the only thing she could make out through the red haze.

A deep yelp of pain told her she connected.

Both men froze, unable to process the sudden turn of events. Their mouths hung open lamely as shock set in – they were sitting ducks. Fortunately for them, they hadn't been discovered yet. That luck had a short expiration date, though, and Jenna knew she had to act fast for _any_ of them to have a chance.

Jenna pulled both men behind her in one swift motion and used the momentum to throw herself forward, onto the man hovering over Shepard. She swung hard as the distance closed, catching the attacker completely off guard. Her aim remained true despite the many drinks she'd had. His nose and eye socket gave way with the sickening crunch of broken bones. His limp body collapsed to the ground, followed the hollow thud of his head bouncing off the stone pavers underfoot. Jenna stood over the attacker, shaking the pain from her hand as she watched for any signs of life from the man below.

An oily laugh spilled from the doorway to the guard station. Jenna turned towards the sound, but not fast enough; the alcohol slowed her reflexes. A gloved hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed the woman's long dark hair before she could process what she'd seen, jerking her down roughly, head first. She had just enough time to throw her sore hand down to brace for impact, hopeful that would prevent the same fate as the immobile man next to her. There was a loud snap as her arm twisted unnaturally underneath her weight, but she bit back the scream of pain. She wouldn't give her attacker the satisfaction.

"You two will fetch a small fortune," a guttural voice oozed out of the darkness. Four cold black eyes peered out at them, his small mouth pulled into a pointy sneer as he stepped into the light. The batarian was most likely on a slave grab. "Of course, I'll have to work the feistiness out of you, but I have my ways. They're fun, too. Well, for me, at least."

The slimy laugh sent a chill down Shepard's spine. She had a pretty good idea what his methods were, but she'd be damned if she was going to find out for sure. She slowly pulled her legs underneath her body into a deep squat, the movement unnoticed by the leering batarian. Pulling her arm across her bloody brow gave her a moment of clear vision, but that was all she needed.

"Over my dead body," she growled.

The blood ran into her eyes once more, stinging and blinding her, so she followed her memory and gut instincts. Her strong legs pushed off with everything she had. Her arm swung wide as she launched herself towards their would-be captor, the momentum twisting her body as she brought her arm down with a sharp jab. The knife glinted briefly before sinking deep into the batarian's body, nearly decapitating him in one fell swipe. Ignoring the pain blossoming in her lower abdomen, she twisted her grip of the knife to free it from the lifeless body still standing in front of her, and then threw it at the movement in the shadows deeper in the recesses of the building. A sharp cry of pain followed the solid thud of impact, followed by the sound of two bodies hitting the floor.

It was over in a matter of seconds.


	3. Chapter 3

An oppressive silence settled over the small section of Elysium, so thick and sudden after the violent chaos it caused an almost painful buzz in Shepard's ears. Tinnitus was a pain in the ass. Shepard tried to shake it off with little success, so she took a deep breath just to hear something aside from the ringing in her ears, just to make sure the kick to her head hadn't done more damage than the split brow. Her breath hitched as pain lanced through her core, but at least she heard her own gasp of pain. That was good news, and she'd take what she could get.

Assured she was at least functional, Shepard looked around to survey the carnage. Surprisingly, it wasn't nearly as gruesome as she'd anticipated. The two local guys were nowhere to be seen, but that was no shock. It was probably for the best, too. There was a good chance she'd destroy that tall jerk on sight for his part in this. The human man responsible for her split brow lay a short distance away, barely visible behind the refuse bin. A thick stream of blood from his swollen, crunched nose joined a small, deep crimson pool collecting in the cracks of the pavement under his head, but his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He was in bad shape, but at least he was still alive. That's more than could be said of the batarian crumpled just inside the doorway, his nearly-headless body laying in a brackish swamp comprised of a disgusting mix of bodily fluids.

Jenna lay just out of reach, her arm still twisted under her at an unnatural angle. She was exactly where she'd fallen, shaking violently but not making a sound. Shepard pushed herself up onto all fours to close the distance, to check on her friend. Bright red droplets she hadn't noticed earlier appeared between them, forming a small puddle.

"Jenna, are you ok?" Shepard had to fight to keep her voice steady. The blood between them was fresh and coming from an ample source based on how fast it was growing. Concern bubbled in her gut when there was no answer. She reached out with a shaky hand and gently touched her friend's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Jenna shrieked in an almost feral hiss, her voice unfamiliar.

"Jenna, it's me. It's over; they're all dead." Shepard absently wiped the congealing blood from her brow and crawled over to her friend. "Here, let me help you," she pulled the dark hair away from Jenna's downturned face and held out one hand as she pushed herself into a squat at her friend's side. A gasp of agony tore from Shepard's lips at the small movement. A sharp pain shot through her abdomen, radiating through her entire core, and her red bathing suit gave way with a tiny pop. Stars danced before her eyes as she wobbled dangerously on the balls of her feet, the squat too much for her body to maintain. Legs giving way, Shepard sat down roughly, the abrupt jolt causing more pain and quite a bit of embarrassment as her suit gave up completely and fell to the ground around her, nothing more than strips of fabric decorating the pavement. Clearly it was not designed for battle situations. The string of obscenities that sprung to life in that moment were so intense, so vulgar, they would even make a drunken krogan blush.

"You say the prettiest things," Jenna's voice, thin with pain, emerged from behind a curtain of dark hair, her face too pale and eyes too wide, but at least she was smiling. "And I see you decided you were overdressed for the situation, too."

"Laugh it up. You're the one who picked this stupid thing out. I'm beginning to suspect it was on purpose."

Jenna started to laugh as she took in the undoubtedly absurd scene. It was high and tight, and a little too frantic, but it was close enough to normal that Shepard started to relax… until the sound died in Jenna's throat and a look of panic washed over the brunette.

"Shepard, you're hurt."

"It's just a split brow, no big deal. You know how head wounds are – they bleed like mad, but it usually looks worse than it is," she assured her friend as she wiped at her brow once again.

"Don't move." The words had the bark of an order, so Shepard obeyed. Jenna gasped as she stood, her arm twisted and dangling limply, but she barely flinched. She held Shepard firmly in her gaze. "There should be plenty of supplies inside. I'll be right back. Stay put."

"Yes, ma'am," Shepard teasingly saluted. "Do me a favor, though. Grab something for me to cover up while you're in there. I'm feeling a bit exposed."

Jenna didn't respond to the request. She'd already ventured inside the guard station so singularly focused she didn't even notice the partially decapitated body as she stepped over it, or the way her bare feet squelched in the viscous, foul smelling fluids, the muck clinging to her soles. Less than a minute later she reappeared with an omni-tool and medical supplies piled in her one good arm and a shirt draped around her neck.

"You're going to have to help me get this 'tool on my wrist. I'll take it from there."

"How 'bout you let me fix your arm first. It should be pretty fast and easy, and you'll have both hands available."

Jenna shook her head vehemently, her face noticeably tight and pale with concern. "I have to take care of you first. DON'T MOVE!"

Jenna was never so insistent. Unease bubbled in Shepard's gut. "Can I at least put the shirt on first? I'd like to keep a shred of dignity if possible."

The tension in Jenna's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and she chuckled a bit. "You never had any to begin with. Now strap it on me."

"Is that what you said last night?" Shepard winked and started to laugh, but it turned into a violent hiss as pain coursed through her once more. Jenna didn't even smile, her face carefully neutral behind her field medic mask, but her eyes plead for haste.

Shepard nodded, finally understanding what was at stake as she noted the vibrant red blood dripping from Jenna's outstretched hand. Something was definitely wrong. Once the 'tool was in place, Jenna gently eased Shepard back until she was flat on the ground and began scanning, concentrating on her exposed abdomen. After a few tense moments the muscles in Jenna's body relaxed ever so slightly and she drew a shaky breath.

"You're one lucky woman, Shepard," she whispered as her dark eyes studied the screen hovering over her good wrist. "That bastard came damn close to gutting you. There's a gash on your hip here," she spoke as she probed the wound, ignoring the gasp it elicited as she sealed it, "and it's deep. The blade hit the bone, and that's what slowed the blow."

Jenna's hand slid across the wound on Shepard's hip once more, making sure it was completely closed while tracing the blade's trajectory. She'd started there because it looked the worst – glimpses of white bone deep within dark wounds tended to grab one's attention like that, but that didn't mean the rest of the wound was inconsequential. Her good hand moved to the center of Shepard's abdomen, so low on her torso even the tiniest bikini bottom would've covered it – if she was still wearing a suit.

A deep flush crept up Shepard's neck as her friend hovered over parts of her only a select few had ever seen up close – in the light, at least. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching, because they'd be getting quite the show if they were. Fortunately, they were tucked back from the main road a bit, and their 'dates' took off at the first sign of trouble. Those local guys were really missing out by being total chicken-shits, and Shepard was more thankful than ever for that. Confident they were alone, she focused on her friend settled firmly between her legs. "Jeez, you going to buy me dinner after this?"

Jenna shot a convincing glare up to her patient, but chose not to respond. Instead, she kept as it professional as possible. That was the only thing that would keep it from getting weird.

"This part is deep, but the blade struck at an awkward angle. Fortunately, he missed almost everything in there. You'll have to be fixed up properly, but this will do for now."

The second wound took considerably more time to close up, but Jenna was able to do so despite only having one hand at her disposal. She finally pushed away and struggled to her feet after several minutes. That part of Shepard's body was now as healed as it was going to get for the time being, but there was still one more scan to do.

"Well I'll be damned," Jenna smiled as she ran the 'tool over Shepard's head, "it looks like there's something up there after all." She giggled a bit at her own joke while tossing the shirt to her nude friend.

Shepard gingerly pushed herself to sitting, relying on her arms to do most of the work. The wounded abdominal muscles weren't completely up to the task quite yet – something she discovered the hard way, but she eventually got herself more or less upright and yanked the shirt over her head. The shapeless grey material hung from her shoulders like a tent and it smelled of stale smoke and sweat, but at the moment it was the best item of clothing on the planet. That's when she noticed the large blue lettering across the chest that said Orgasm Donor. Shepard grinned to herself. This was _definitely_ the best item of clothing on Elysium. Mended and clothed once more, she turned to her friend, ready to return the favor.

Jenna stood just out of reach, her too-wide eyes locked on the corpse within the doorway. Perspiration glistened on her blanched features as her body shook violently, her wounded arm hanging lifeless and forgotten. She was in shock. Shepard wrapped one arm around her friend to guide her inside, but Jenna flinched at the touch and collapsed to the ground, sobbing hysterically. The behavior was fairly normal for a civilian faced with violent death for the first time, but not for a trained Alliance soldier with several tours under their belt. Helpless concern washed over Shepard as she watched her friend unravel. There was no way she could carry her to safety, not while her wounds were so fresh, so she searched her memory for anything that would help – anything that would explain the sudden loss of control. Then she remembered. It was a small little note in Jenna's file – something Shepard found out on accident and was never discussed.

Shepard grabbed the batarian's ankle and pulled him into the station, leaving a dark grey trail of foul-smelling fluids in its wake. One of its forehead ridges snagged on a loose board and the head broke free half-way through the room, the sightless eyes catching the light as it rocked back and forth in a puddle of its own fluids. Shepard continued on and deposited the body in the dark corner next to the figure pinned to the wall with a knife, then retrieved the skull and unceremoniously tossed it onto the pile as well. At least she knew where the knife she'd stolen ended up, and it was a good throw, too.

Since she was already moving bodies, Shepard decided it was wise to remove any proof of their fight – just in case another one of the invaders came to investigate. A body lying in the middle of the road was sure to attract attention, so she had one more job to do. The last guy, the human male with the busted face, was the heaviest of the bunch. His weight strained the sutures of Shepard's wounds as she moved him, but leaving him was not an option. Besides, he may still be of some use. She dragged the man further into the station, careful to hit every bump and piece of furniture along the way, before depositing him in a cell just in case he woke up. She pulled back and kicked him in the face once – just for good measure, but felt guilty when he groaned lightly. She owed it to him, anyway. As his head lolled to the side Shepard noticed a glint of metal catch the light, and she got an idea.

A harsh gasp escaped Shepard's lips as she knelt down at the human male's side, but this was important. Holding her breath to avoid the heavy odor of blood and urine, Shepard dug the small device out of his ear. The crusty earpiece was silent, but Shepard suspected it may come in handy, so she took it with her and shut the door behind her.

Her task complete, Shepard went out to retrieve Jenna. The woman had calmed significantly once the corpse was gone, but her body continued to quake with fear. Shepard gently guided her inside. She really hated herself for what she had to do next.

"Tell me about Mindoir."

Jenna recoiled as if she'd been struck. "I don't want to talk about it."

"My mom was there – on the SSV Einstein. She wouldn't talk about it to me, but I heard some of the stories…" Shepard's admission had Jenna's full attention. She used the lull to her advantage and popped the dislocated shoulder back into place with one swift motion. Jenna never flinched; her attention was focused solely on Shepard. "I need to know everything you can tell me. The more I know, the more I can do to help prevent the same thing from happening here. I won't let these people suffer the same fate – I promise. But I need your help."

Thick tears streamed down Jenna's face as she nodded.

"Mom, my sister Rita, and I were setting the table for dinner when we heard screams. Mom went to the kitchen window to see what was going on. We heard a loud pop and crash in the kitchen, and then the back door flew open. It was my brother. He and dad had been out in the fields…" Jenna's voice trailed off and her eyes stared into nothingness. She remained frozen, a look of abject horror twisting her pretty features as she relived the nightmare. Several minutes later she shook her head hard, as if to shake away the images completely. When she finally started again her voice was flat, without inflection – as if she were reading a passage from a report.

"They took out all security with small teams and infiltrated the community without drawing any attention. The small teams stayed under the radar, picking off anyone who could provide resistance until the ships were secure to land. Then they coordinated their attacks. It was a swarm that started towards the landing area and washed over the community in a wave too fast for anyone to react. We never had a chance…" Jenna turned her dark eyes on her friend, silently pleading through tears of pain and regret.

Shepard nodded once. "Then we know what to expect."

Silence filled the guard station as Shepard processed it all, trying to find the best way to prevent history from repeating itself. A small squawk broke the silence – it came from the earpiece in her hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Shepard studied the small piece of outdated technology in the palm of her filth-encrusted hand. It was no larger than a bean, but it had the potential to save the entire colony. That was the only reason she was even _considering_ what she was about to do. One dirty, jagged nail scratched the thick layer of mysterious dark crust from the item, and then she wiped it on the shirt. That was as good as it would get. Suppressing a gag, Shepard slid the human slaver's com earpiece into her ear. A conversation was already well underway.

" _…_ _docking bay completely secured, all hostiles terminated_." The voice had the timbre of a human male.

" _Excellent. Shadow One and Shadow Two:_ Status," a second, gruffer voice spoke with an air of authority.

Silence stretched on for several beats.

" _Shadow Two may still be en route, but Shadow One should be in place by now_."

" _I know they can hear me, either way_ ," the second voice had the edge of a threat as he spoke, " _so they need to take this into consideration: They have fifteen minutes to secure their locations. If they don't report in by then, send another team to investigate and terminate the first team_. _We have too much invested to turn back now. Failure is not an option_." A low, guttural growl punctuated the statement, and then the line went silent with a click.

"Jenna, there's another target. Figure out who it is and try to alert them while I find something to defend our position. We only have 15 minutes before they send another squad to our location."

Shepard left Jenna to search through the station's files for any clue that may help thwart the attack. She was the only one for the job, since it involved hacking through the station's security system. Shepard was less than worthless when it came to that sort of work. Fighting, on the other hand, was something she was more than capable of handling.

Turning the corner into the private area of the station, Shepard was hit with the tell-tale odor of death. Based on the positions of the bodies, the both guards on duty had been caught completely unawares – their deaths mercifully quick. Shepard turned her back to the bodies. Nothing would help them now. She had to focus on preventing the rest of the colony from falling to the same fate – if they were lucky. Death was an easier way out than the alternative, based on what she'd learned of Mindoir, but she was going to fight to prevent either from happening. To do so, she had to be ready.

Shepard scrambled through the lockers, desperately searching for something – _anything_ – to protect her body, the weight of the ticking clock pushing her forward. An oversized shirt just wasn't going to cut it. Unfortunately, it was beginning to look as though Elysium's guard roster was the de facto employer of the morbidly obese. Every set of armor would easily fit two of her. Shepard spun in frustration, and that's when she saw it. It was an inelegant solution, but her only other option would be to distract the invaders by streaking, which was not a pleasant idea.

The lone female guard slumped backwards in her chair, the gaping wound in her neck a harsh, macabre smile of death. Shepard swallowed hard as she released the seals and slid the armor from the woman's still form, the blood-saturated fabric clinging to the dead flesh until it finally pulled free with a wet sucking sound. Her hand shook as she stared at the wet, stained armor, but there was no time to be squeamish. She yanked the individual pieces in place over her mostly-nude form, conscious of the fact that only the large shirt separated her body from the soiled, saturated armor, and that barrier was soaked through almost instantly. Guilt and nausea took turns washing over her, but she shook it aside and focused on closing the seals. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it would do.

Fully loaded with weapons and ammo, Shepard emerged from the back area of the station to find her friend hovering over the console. Her heart ached to see her confident, care-free friend so haunted by the horrors of her past. "Any luck over there?" Shepard called out tentatively.

Jenna shook her head, the dark hair a curtain concealing her downturned face. "I finally got into the system, but that's as far as I've gotten. My hands are shaking so hard I couldn't type my name without messing it up." A sharp, bitter laugh echoed through the stark room as she turned away from the console to finally face her comrade. "So much for knights in shining armor, eh?" she huffed.

"Tell me about it," Shepard forced a small grin as she wiped a hand down the blood-stained armor. The brunette's eyes locked on the thick, viscous smear along the neckline and her thin façade began to crack. Shepard scrambled for something, anything, to say to keep Jenna from falling apart completely, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as various light-hearted quips sprung to mind and were immediately discarded.

Soft footfalls pushed it all out of mind. Someone was approaching the station, trying to avoid detection but failing against Shepard's trained senses. Panic shot through her as her eyes darted to the clock on the wall; her fingers tingled with a small, unintentional flare of dark energy. They were early. She wasn't fast enough, wasn't fully prepared. The other target received no warning. She was all that stood between the invaders and Elysium, and they almost caught her with her pants down.

Shepard motioned for silence and quietly slid closer to the door, physically putting herself between Jenna and whoever was just outside the doorway. They were going to have to come through her to take this station, and she was going to make them work for it.

The pilfered pistol was old and outdated, but well-kept, and Shepard was confident it would get her point across. She trained the gun on the doorway as she stood in the weaver stance, with her firing side back and her support side towards the open door, her supporting arm bent at the elbow to employ a stable 'push-pull' grip. An obviously old rifle poked through the doorway, the muzzle weaving noticeably – the mark of a true amateur. She kept her aim steady as dark hair and one dark eye slid into view without bothering to clear the corner. They were really making this one easy for her. Shepard tightened her grip; just a fraction of an inch more and she would have a clear headshot. Then she froze.

Shepard would recognize that dazed look anywhere.

"Sh…Shana?" Robby stuttered as he wild eyes took in her appearance, widening until they were practically bulging as they fell on the pile of bodies in the dark corner. "Where… where's Jenna? Is she…" He glanced at the corpses once more and gulped audibly, unable to finish.

A sob from behind Shepard shattered the silence and answered his question all at once. The old riffle clattered to the ground, forgotten, as Robby ran past Shepard and scooped Jenna into his arms. The moment was achingly intimate, and Shepard immediately felt like an interloper, but there were pressing matters at hand.

"Robby, are there any other guard stations?" Shepard interrupted. Desperation coursed through her as he stared back blankly and shook his head. "There's another target – probably somewhere towards the center or opposite edge of the settlement. I need you to focus, Robby. What could it be? We need to warn them, and we're almost out of time!"

Robby squirmed under Shepard's intent stare. "Um… there's an Alliance recruitment center on the other side of the resort, but they don't actually do anything security-wise…" his voice trailed off, unsure. "We're a peaceful colony. This is the only security force we have."

Jenna jumped up and immediately set to work hailing the center, her fingers swift and sure once more. For some strange reason, the silly local boy empowered her. She stood back and held her breath as the line beeped repeatedly, the tone harsh and grating, and somehow disheartening. Someone should've answered by now. Jenna's shoulders drooped as time stretched on without response. They all knew what it meant.

Shepard turned away. Standing around waiting was not going to do anything to improve their odds. Time was running out, and she needed to focus on things that _would_ help. She turned her attention to the colony map along the wall, memorizing it and looking for any advantage she could find.

"Corporal Morgan, Alliance…" Jenna's voice rang out, immediately filling the void created by the now-silenced beeps, but Shepard didn't hear anything else. Her attention was on the slaver's earpiece, relaying yet another message.

" _Damn it, stop messing around, Jend'Al. I know you reached your target,_ _ **and**_ _you blew the whole 'not drawing attention' part of your orders. I could hear the screams from here. Get your asses on the line so the boss will lay off me, or else I'll send someone over there to take care of you. And that goes for you and your team too, Mitchens. My grandmother could've reached the Alliance outpost by now. Get it down and report back in. Your lives are on the line_ ," the first voice from earlier hissed with malice.

Barely-contained panic created a solid rock in the pit of Shepard's stomach as she felt the time crunch. Things were about to get ugly, fast. They were almost out of time to prepare, and Jenna was still communicating with the Alliance station. At least that was one glimmer of hope, but that left Shepard to get their position as prepped as possible. She darted into the back area of the guard station to gather anything that would be of use.

Elysium was a quiet, affluent colony. A large portion of the daily population consisted of tourists, the remainder comprised of retirees and the people offering goods and services to them. Aside from a few pick-pockets and one out-of-control prank involving instant-bubble tabs that unintentionally eroded clothing, the security detail was nothing more than a presence for show. It was a gravy posting, and the guard station's supplies showed it. They were in no way equipped for a full-scale war.

It took only minutes to gather all the remaining supplies at their disposal. Shepard carefully watched the clock the entire time, acutely aware of the urgency of the matter. The next teams would arrive in less than five minutes. Bile crawled up Shepard's throat as her empty stomach spun with dread; her eyes flitted over the small spread on the table, studiously ignoring the bodies seated on either end. She felt like a grave robber, but she'd be no good later if she didn't eat now. Biotic metabolism was a curse at times.

Stomach full and arms laden with a stockpile, Shepard emerged from the back area of the station to find two guns trained on Jenna and Robby.

"Please, put the gun down," Robby quietly plead with the closer of the two, "Jayden, please."

Shepard sighed at the name, quietly set her burden to the floor and stepped fully into view, hands raised. There was no reason to start a fight when something so much worse was breathing down their necks. Jayden spun until his weapon trained on her, finger twitching over the trigger.

"These are the women I told you about. They caused this." Jayden called to an older man wearing an Alliance uniform, waving his gun broadly to indicate the blood splatters. "I don't know who they really are, but the brunette called the blonde Shepard when she didn't think I was listening." His thin face was pulled into a sneer.

"Shepard?" the old man chuckled. He lowered his gun and laid a hand on Jayden's weapon, forcing it down as well. "You're Hannah's kid, aren't you? I thought you looked familiar, but the blonde hair threw me off," his words slurred together so it was almost like interpreting a foreign language.

Shepard nodded once she was able to work out what he'd actually said, her eyes trying to find familiarity in his puffy features. She couldn't quite place him, but she was pretty sure he'd worked with her mother at some point. It wasn't until he winked and pointed at her that it fell into place. Corporal Dumas of the SSV Einstein – she knew that gesture anywhere.

"Dumas, it's been too long…" Shepard smiled warmly and approached the old family friend, biting back a gag as the smell of cheap liquor washed over her.

Jayden stepped between them, face tight and pale with indignant rage. "They attacked the people in this station. I saw it with my own two eyes," he bellowed, "so they had to be behind the attack at the recruitment…"

"You were attacked? What happened?" Shepard interrupted the young man's rant, physically pushing him aside for a clear view of the old soldier.

"This kid ran in screaming about an attack. We had just enough time to grab some gear before several men slipped in. As it was, we lost one man, but if he hadn't shown up…"

Shepard's hand shot up to silence the soldier as her other flew to the earpiece.

 _"Shadow One and Shadow Two; Status,"_ the same oily voice from the first conversation filled her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. He let a few moments pass in silence before continuing. _"Time's up on the Shadow teams. Jedar, you know what to do. Maintain the docking area and send a clean-up crew after One and Two. The first wave lands in 15, and you better be ready. Any failure will mean your head."_

Shepard looked back up. All eyes were on her.

"Get ready guys, it's about to get ugly. They're sending someone to find out what happened to the infiltration teams – they should be here soon. Let the recruitment center know so they'll be ready. The real fun starts in 15 - that's when the ships land."

Both local men's eyes widened in panic at the news as tremors of barely-contained terror wracked their tanned frames. They were both inexperienced civilians, unequipped for such crises, and it showed. To their credit, they didn't fall apart completely.

Dumas watched their reactions, and then pulled a shaky hand over his weathered face. "What are we facing?"

"Best case scenario: it's a simple slave grab. My gut tells me it's more than that, though. The last communication referenced waves of landings, so we have to assume they'll have a heavy presence of humans and batarians, at the very least."

Dumas paled dangerously. A sheen of alcohol-scented sweat appeared on his brow, but he wiped it away and gained his composure almost immediately. He was a trained soldier, and this was no time to fall apart. With a brisk nod, he turned to the task at hand – updating the remainder of the Alliance presence within the colony of the impending threat.

"I… I can't do it, Shep. I can't face them again," Jenna cried out.

Shepard knelt down by her friend and lightly cupped her chin, lifting her face until their eyes met. The look of pure terror that swam in her comrade's dark eyes as they filled with tears made Shepard's heart ache with pity.

Jenna turned her face away in shame, her body shaking violently. "Please don't make me do it," she whispered softly.

Shepard stilled for half a beat, a plan coalescing in her mind. They couldn't do this alone. Amongst their little group, she was the only one even somewhat fit for battle, and she was relying on field repairs to keep her upright. Robby and Jayden were untested, untrained civilians, Dumas was oozing liquor, and Jenna had crumbled. There was only one solution. She stood and spun on one heel to face the men, the sudden movement making the local guys jump; only Dumas remained unfazed.

"Is there an emergency alert system?" she demanded.

All three men nodded mutely, and Dumas led her over to a small console. After a few seconds of study she found what she wanted.

"I need you guys to cover the door. Someone's heading this way from the docking area, possibly a small infiltration team like before. We need to neutralize them before they reach us - before they can report back. There's armor in back if you need it, but make it fast. The clock's ticking."

They all nodded their understanding. Dumas readied a sniper rifle and ducked behind cover by the door while the other two men ran to the back. They had their tasks set; now she had to take care of hers.

Shepard turned her focus to the console in front of her. A few keystrokes later a small camera emerged from the wall and sprung to life. Shepard wiped at her face self-consciously, only now considering how she must look, but reminded herself that this was no time for vanity. Tucking a few stray blonde hairs behind her ears, she took a steadying breath and began speaking directly to the camera.

"This is Corporal Shepard of the Alliance Marines. Elysium is under immediate threat of an attack. This is not a drill." Shepard paused a moment to let it sink in. "We'll be strongest if we work together. Those of you able and willing to join the resistance, please come to the guard station equipped with any arms at your disposal. If you have skills and no weapons, they will be provided on a first come, first serve basis. A member of the Alliance will be present to direct you to an appropriate location based on your strengths." She pointedly looked at the old Alliance soldier off camera. His eyes were trained on the approach from the docking area, but he nodded once in acknowledgement. Emboldened, she continued her address.

"All citizens unable to fight should immediately make their way to a secure location at the center of the development, which will be staffed by an Alliance-trained field medic. Just follow the attached coordinates. There's safety in numbers, so please don't hole up alone." Shepard glanced at her friend off-camera, to see her reaction to this news. The gratitude practically radiated off Jenna, and Robby took this cue and began contacting staff at the resort to coordinate accordingly.

"We've repelled small attacks designed to weaken us from within – to prepare for this major push. They've already failed once, and they will again, because we have something they don't. We have the advantage of awareness and surprise. Our enemy doesn't know we're prepared for them. There's Alliance support en route, so we just have to hold out until they arrive." The sound of two shots in rapid succession distracted her, making her briefly lose her train of thought. Shepard took a deep breath and looked down for just one moment. When she looked back up her green eyes shone with determination and pride.

"I have faith in the strength of this community. Elysium was founded by a hero. We can take this opportunity to prove that we are _all_ heroes. The galaxy will be watching. Let's send a message to those who use fear as a weapon. We will not be pushed around!"

The camera turned off with a push of a button, the recording complete. Her voice echoed through the room, the alert already replaying on Robby's open 'tool. They programmed it to run on a loop until manually stopped – that way everyone would get the warning. There was no way anyone would doubt the authenticity of her call to arms based on her resolve, let alone her appearance. Her bright green eyes glimmered fiercely from under a puffy, angry split brow; dried blood flaked from the side of her face and congealed thickly along the front of her borrowed armor. She looked like she'd already been through war.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Many apologies for the delay. I hope it is enjoyed!

* * *

Arms laden with supplies, Jenna rushed over to Shepard. The tears still pooled along her lower lashes, but the fear in her dark brown eyes had been replaced by strength and determination. Handing her load over to her male companion, she pulled Shepard into a brief, but strong hug. "Thank you – for everything. I'll make sure nothing happens to everyone counting on me. Send the injured my way and we'll take care of the rest. I won't let you down," she whispered in her friend's ear before pulling back to search Shepard's face. "Please, just… be careful. I know you can't promise more, so that's all I'm asking."

Shepard nodded mutely as three shots echoed through the empty street in rapid succession.

"Caught a few trying to sneak up on us, but I took care of them," Dumas called over his shoulder without turning away.

"Good job. Corporal Morgan and Robby are going into the resort area. Cover them."

Dumas nodded in acknowledgement, the sniper rifle somehow steadily pointing at the empty street despite the less-than sober state and clammy skin of the man wielding it. Jenna and Robby approached the open doorway and Dumas waved them out with a flick of his wrist. The coast was clear. Robby slid around the corner without hesitation, gun raised and steady, to provide physical cover for the field medic's retreat since her hands were too full of supplies to handle a weapon. This man, an untrained civilian and relative stranger, knowingly acted as a human shield to protect Jenna if it should come to that, and that raised him up several levels in Shepard's book.

A shot rang out.

Robby flinched, turning his shoulder to the open street with a sharp hiss. Time slowed as Shepard held her breath, expecting the worst.

"Got 'em," Dumas chuckled to himself.

The sudden outburst drew Shepard's attention for a split second. By the time she glanced back to the open doorway it was empty. They made it.

" _Goyne, Debusky, come in_ ," a voice sprang to life in Shepard's ear. It was the guy securing the docks, if she remembered correctly. Silence stretched for a few beats as the man waited for a response, his breath becoming increasingly more jagged with each passing second. No response came. " _Damn it, where is everyone_?"

Another sharp report ricocheted through the streets, a scream of pain echoing between the vacant buildings as well as in Shepard's ear. " _Jedar, someone's shooting…_ " the new voice cut away abruptly with a second shot. A soft click filled the silence as Dumas reloaded.

" _All teams: pull back. Someone's picking off our guys. Fall back to the docks and wait for reinforcements_." Jedar sounded frantic, so he wasn't a total moron. A predatory grin spread across Shepard's lips as the line went silent.

"Dumas, they're pulling back."

"Good, because it looks like we have reinforcements." Dumas reached out and made a hand signal through the opening. Moments later a soldier in Alliance uniform slid into view, gun at the ready, and cleared the path. Satisfied, he waved in a small group comprised of several human civilians, three turians, and a handful of asari, with another Alliance uniform bringing up the rear.

The ragtag group filled the small station, all looking to Shepard for direction. This was her show. "Alright, everybody, we're working on a tight clock. Based on reliable intel, the attack is coming from the docking area, which is already under enemy control. We can work with that, though: there's a natural bottleneck from the docks into the colony, funneling all arrivals through that one entrance. We need to set up barricades along that path so we can pick them off as they come through. Any questions?" Shepard looked around the new faces, ready to answer, but they all shook their heads. "Time's running out, so we need to get those set up. Grab what you need and head out."

Thanks to biotic heavy lifting by several asari who'd come to help, the barricades were in place with time to spare. Shepard was pleasantly surprised at the sheer number of volunteers - human and alien alike - who showed up to aid the resistance. Their numbers alone were not enough to rival a full-scale invasion and the experience and gear possessed by the make-shift army was anything but consistent, but it was what they had to work with. Besides, a reason to fight – something worth dying for – was a powerful motivator. Now it was up to her to make it work. Proper placement was crucial.

Everyone with military training was positioned along the strategically placed barricades. Communication would be limited to yells or messages on 'tools, so Shepard wanted to make sure everyone on the front lines was capable of making battle decisions without direct supervision. Fortunately, there was a decent pool of military-trained individuals to work with thanks in large part to the turian required service doctrine and the asari standard biotic education, as well as the military pride and prowess of both species.

Dumas had been left behind at the guard station as a contact for any late-coming volunteers. It was up to him to determine the capability of anyone else that showed up and decide where to send them. The highly qualified individuals were to go to the front lines, those with medical training were most beneficial assisting Jenna, and everyone else was to act as a barrier between the main action and those seeking refuge in the resort. That was the only way to keep as many people safe as possible, and it was all hanging on the hope that the fighting would remain limited to the front lines so those in the middle – the volunteers with limited-to-no experience – would not be forced into action. This plan was tenuous at best, and she knew it.

Shepard was honest with her reasoning in leaving Dumas behind and was confident he took it at face value, but there was more to it: frankly, she questioned his state of mind. He was efficient with the sniper rifle so far, and he was getting better as he sobered up, but all the targets so far were human. She had a good idea what they were up against, and it could ultimately prove too much for the man. Shepard knew his history. He was at Mindoir, just like Jenna, and it obviously still haunted him as well. She'd seen him freeze, saw the color drain from his face at the mere mention of the species that'd become his real-life boogeyman. There would be a fair number of Batarians coming at them if her suspicions were correct, and she'd never forgive herself it he was forced to meet them and failed – if she pushed him to the point he snapped for good.

Shepard picked her position carefully, crouched in the cover behind the barricade directly facing the docks. The fact that everyone was looking to a corporal as the de facto leader was mystifying and a little frightening, but she vowed to do everything within her power to live up to the expectations of her people, Elysium's people. Being prominent, where all eyes could see, was a large factor in her chosen position. The other factor was her need to ensure the safety of the local guy who _insisted_ on being front and center. That was the _only_ reason Jayden crouched next to her. That guy was harder to shake than a case of Scale-Itch… not that she knew from experience. Her mind wandered to the horror stories exchanged in the mess over substandard food during basic. It was a small wonder any of them had been able to eat after those stories, but youthful pride and near-starvation would render even the most questionable food edible and the most disgusting stories ineffective. The memories made her chuckle despite herself, the soft sound breaking the tense silence as they waited.

"What's so damn funny?" Jayden still had quite an attitude towards Shepard, and he didn't bother hiding it.

"Scale-Itch," Shepard answered with a shrug, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from completely losing it. Jayden responded with a blank stare of confusion, but the turian on her right barked a sudden laugh.

"That's not what I heard," the turian chuckled, his mandibles pulsing in amusement as he shook his head. Clearly the stories were a staple of basic training regardless of species, perhaps as a way to scare the newbies… or maybe there really were enough idiots in the universe that everyone had a true story of a friend-of-a-friend. Comparing versions could help determine the truth, though she was a little frightened to find out. It was somehow nicer to assume they were all warning tales, but she wanted to know for sure. Curiosity piqued, she turned to the turian for his version when a slight noise caught her attention.

Ships were approaching. It was no wonder Mindoir fell so easily; she almost missed it and she knew it was coming.

Shepard popped up and signaled everyone to be on alert. They already had their orders; they were to hold fire, drawing them until Shepard's signal. Only then would they unleash hell. With one curt nod she dropped back down and readied herself.

"All right guys, show time!" Her green eyes glistened with adrenaline and determination as she looked around at everyone behind her barricade. "I can't believe they didn't wait until dark…" Shepard wondered aloud as she shielded the sun from her eyes.

"They were just a few weeks too late. Elysium converted to standard time a month ago. Their screw-up," the turian answered, his abnormally bright blue eyes locked on the dock.

"I'll take any advantage we can get."

 _"Remain alert, landing party. Shadow teams One and Two have not reported in and everyone sent to investigate was taken out."_

Shepard swore silently to herself. Jedar was proving to be a real pain in her ass. Shepard waved away the concerned glance of the turian at her side as a second voice filled her ear, sending a shiver of disgust down her spine.

 _"Disregard that, landing party. They'll be no match for our numbers. Proceed as planned."_

The oily voice of 'the boss' didn't seem too concerned. _Hubris often led to spectacular downfalls_ ; hopefully, this would be no exception.

Soft footfalls echoed between the vacant storefronts of the main street as an army flowed from the docks. The ragtag group of humans and aliens along the front line held their position with patience. The invaders walked right by the barricades set up along the sides without as much as a glance, oblivious to the strange half walls along the street despite the odd shadows they cast in Elysium's strong sunlight. It wasn't until they neared Shepard's position that they slowed, finally suspecting something was amiss with a partial wall standing in the center of the lane. The batarian on point raised his hand towards the com in his ear, but never finished the action. A single shot caught him directly between his four eyes, shattering his face shield in the process, and his lifeless body fell to the ground with a solid thump as his comrades froze, unable to process what they'd witnessed.

They had their signal. The resistance team sprung into action like a well-oiled machine as Shepard took aim at a second target, dropping him with one shot as well. Screams of the injured and dying slavers cut through the sounds of gunfire. The invading troops had been caught with their pants down, just as she'd hoped. Despite Jedar's warning, almost half the initial wave fell before any of the slavers returned fire. The erratic placement of the barricades confused the surviving invaders, their panic adding to the effect and making their shots go wild. This gave the resistance the opportunity to pick them off with ease.

A new wave approached as the first wave fell; there was no break in the battle. Much as the ocean at high tide, the waves battered relentlessly against the barricades, one after another seemingly without end. So far each small group of the resistance managed to hold their own, but the ferocity of the battle was taking its toll. Sudden swears and cries from behind the barricades carried over the gunfire. Her area was also not unaffected – the turian on her right hissed and stumbled, his shoulder jerking back as a stray bullet hit, but he did not remain down; he jumped right back up and returned fire. Hopefully, the same was true for the others as well.

Shepard dropped two men making their way towards one of the side barricades, preventing them from breaching their defenses. The chest plate for the second man's body armor exploded outward, the graphic scene catching her eye. Her heart sunk; she recognized the markings. These weren't just simple slavers.

"We've got pirates, guys." She popped her head back up long enough to shoot another batarian through the eyes and then dropped back. "And some batarian warlords, too. Stay sharp."

The sheer number of troops throwing themselves through the docking entrance was overwhelming. The meager resistance Shepard managed to gather was surprisingly skilled, but greatly outnumbered. Just like the hydra from ancient myth, it felt like two mercs sprung up for every one they cut down.

Shepard wiped perspiration from her brow as she reloaded and instantly regretted it as the salt in her sweat stung the angry gash in her eyebrow. She winced reflexively, the small action bringing forth a new pain as her skin ached from the light pressure. It was impossible to tell how long they'd been in position, but the sun was not kind to her spacer complexion. She was going to be badly burnt if this lasted much longer - well, her face would. The rest of her was protected from further burns by her pilfered armor, so she would have a sexy zebra-effect going when all was said and done. _If she survived… if any of them did._ Seriousness settled over her as she admitted the situation to herself: _the resistance couldn't keep up the current pace much longer_ _._ Her pistol was starting to run low on ammo, even with timing her shots for maximum advantage. The rest of them couldn't be much better off, especially since they didn't have an assault weapon strapped to their backs like she did.

 _"Failure is not an option! Get your asses in there and wipe them out. There are too many of you to fail."_ The oily voice in her ear grated Shepard's nerves, but the words terrified her. They'd been holding back.

Shepard popped up and unloaded on a new wave tumbling through the docking entrance. The invaders tripped over the corpses of their fallen comrades, allowing the resistance to take out a few more as they stumbled. There was grace in the little advantages.

Something caught Shepard's eye as she ducked behind cover. It was small – nothing more than a quick glint. The sun caught shiny metal as it arced through the air and land behind the barricade to her front right. It was a grenade.

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, mustering up the nerve to do what she knew she must. Her father's gruff voice echoed through the back of her mind. _This is a gift, not a curse. You were born with this for a reason. A good soldier uses every advantage they have, and yours is special, powerful. It is hidden from all and unique to few. Don't squander it._ _Shepard gritted her teeth, battling against the lump in her throat. The circumstance of that lecture was still a sore spot. It was what her father_ leveled at her after Simon – when she steadfastly refused to use her biotics ever again. As usual, he'd been right; and as usual, she'd been too stubborn to admit it. If she was going to be the soldier these people needed - _her_ people – she had to use every advantage.

A loud explosion made her jump, forcing her hand. The grenade exploded. Their defenses breached. Swallowing the nausea creeping up her throat, her eyes snapped eyes open. Blue swirled over the green of her irises, creating the color of the stormy sea. It mirrored the tempest brewing in her heart, the ferocity within reaching an apex. The time had come to unleash her fury.


	6. Chapter 6

Dark energy swirled along Shepard's skin as she mentally prepared herself for what had to be done. The bright blue flickers shimmered in the faint orange rays of the descending sun, catching the attention of those huddled next to her behind the barrier. All heads snapped to face her in a mixture of mild surprise and shock, save one. Jayden gasped and lurched away dramatically, landing hard on his backside. His eyes narrowed on the woman he'd shared a bed with less than a full day ago as he choked back a gag. "You're one of those _freaks_!" he spit in a harsh whisper.

Shepard flinched inwardly as that all-too familiar insult hit, just as it had the last time. Instead of reacting, she busied herself by glancing over their cover, ignoring the fool of a man as well as the pain his words had caused. Smoke filled the air around the barrier, too thick to see through properly, but insurgents were close. A barrage of gunfire forced her back down, the bullets peppering the area just above her head stalling any action.

"I should've known something was wrong with you," Jayden continued his verbal attack, lashing out to cover his bruised ego. But something was different this time. Shepard realized his words didn't really hurt – he simply wasn't important enough. That didn't stop him, though. "You probably used your freak powers to trick me, you _bitch_."

Talons shot out and grabbed Jayden by the collar, violently jerking him off his rear and sending him airborne, but the flight was over in an instant. The human colonist found himself face-to-face with the turian, his complexion paled dangerously until it almost matched the white clan markings covering most of the turian's pissed features.

"That _woman_ is a damn fine soldier, and she's the only thing standing between you and those invaders. Show some respect, or I'll toss your ass to the enemy myself."

Shepard pulled the assault rifle from her back and shoved it into Jayden's chest, putting a little more force than necessary behind the action, which caused the man to fall from the turian's grasp and land on the pavement with a solid thump. Surprise replaced the open contempt he'd shown her as he looked at the new weapon.

"If you shoot me, I swear I'll kick your ass before I kill you." Shepard's threat had the tone of a vow, and the man's face took on a green tinge, which was enough of a payback for her… for now, at least. She turned to face the onslaught once more, prepared to do what was needed.

"I'll cover you!" the turian shouted as he unleashed a hail of fire.

Shepard launched over the barricade and ran towards the chaos caused by the explosion of the bomb. A small horde of combatants swelled towards the smoking area; the enemy knew they'd created a chink in the armor, and they were moving fast to exploit it. Thick smoke made it impossible to see if the barricade, or the people behind it, still stood. She hoped desperately that they did, but it wouldn't change her goal. The enemy could not be allowed to breach their defenses.

Dark energy gathered within Shepard, filling her with hope as well as a reminder of the power she possessed. It felt good – even better than she'd remembered. The hairs along her arm stood on end as the energy cascaded down to her outstretched hand, which she flicked at the nearest merc. The batarian sailed directly towards her, the confused panic on his face mirroring her own. It was supposed to be a throw, not a pull, but the gesture was sloppy and she was out of practice. Hand scrambling for the weapon at her hip, Shepard lurched to the side and hoped she could be fast enough to kill him.

A burst of shots from her nine o'clock shattered the alien's face moments before he reached her. Shepard wiped the gore from her face as she side-stepped the body, glancing over her shoulder to thank her assistor. Jayden made eye contact and gave one barely perceptible nod.

Shepard pushed on towards the thinning smoke, the dark grey clouds now taking on an almost blue tinge. It took a moment to realize the blue wasn't part of the smoke; it was a faint biotic sphere crackling within the chaos – survivors. Whoever was holding the line was fading fast. Shepard darted forward; determination renewed, she biotically lifted and threw everything in her path without breaking stride. Her team would take care of them for her.

Within a matter of seconds only one krogan remained between her and the team huddled under the biotic dome, and time was running out for the survivors. The asari at the center stood tall, but her arms shook violently above her head from the exertion as a human woman bled profusely at her feet. A human male at her side struggled unsuccessfully to staunch the bleeding. The krogan was closing in; Shepard had to act now.

A desperate twist of one hand bathed the krogan in blue light, but she acted too fast, didn't put enough power behind it; the biotic lift was no match for his mass. Her heart dropped as the hulking beast turned his attention on her, but at least he was unarmed – the lift had managed to strip him of his weapon, if nothing else. Shepard threw a warp at him, hitting him dead center, as she ran towards the fallen barrier. His armor creaked and groaned as she dropped on one hip and slid on the pavement between his legs, her armor protecting her from what would've been a sure case of road rash, and popped up behind him. She was now the only thing standing between the krogan and the survivors.

"Go!" Shepard screamed as she threw up a mediocre barrier. The asari dropped her sphere and knelt down to help the man gather the injured woman. "Get her to the medic in… UGH"

Something hit Shepard hard while she yelled over her shoulder, knocking her back several yards despite her barrier. The sound of armor hitting pavement was drowned out by the battle going on mere yards away, but the impact was enough to knock all the air from her lungs and pop her gun free of the holster; the weapon spun in tight circles away from her as she lay in the street and struggled to catch her breath. She never got a chance to regain her feet. A hand grabbed the front of her armor and hoisted her into the air, dangling from one outstretched arm like a rag doll. Bursts of gunfire illuminated her captor's grizzled mug, and the look in his eye was nothing she wanted to be part of. Shepard thrashed about, desperate to break free, her legs kicking about for purchase and hands clawing ineffectively against his armor.

An arrogant grin spread across the krogan's scarred face as he watched her struggle, confident she had no escape from his attack. He pulled his head back slowly, savoring the build-up to the infamous krogan head-butt. He wanted her to know what was coming, wanted to watch the terror build in her eyes as she realized there was no escape. He was about to be sorely disappointed. Shepard snorted, coughed, and then hocked a loogie into his milky left eye. The slimy glob of spit and snot dripped down his face as he blinked in surprise. Enraged at the gall, the krogan howled and threw his head forward with surety.

Shepard twisted in the air, but was unable to break free. She'd taken charge of the situation and managed to stir an emotional reaction, but it hadn't made him as sloppy as she'd hoped. In fact, she'd only managed to give him direct access to her swollen brow. The inflamed skin burst open like an over-ripe melon and her own blood blinded her once more. Pissed and hurt, she lashed out without thinking. Dark energy coated her arm as she struck out with a hard right hook and connected with his left eye in a sickening crunch. Pain lanced up her arm as a violent crack echoed through the empty portion of the street, the sound carrying over the gunfire.

The krogan threw her aside with enough force to send her sliding on her ass. The extra space was welcome, but it was not enough to keep her safe if he charged and she knew it. There was no way they would do this a second time. Scrambling, she got her feet under her just in time to see the krogan's head jerk back. He fell, lifeless.

"I thought you could use a bit of help, kid." Dumas strapped his sniper rifle over one shoulder as he jogged towards Shepard. Two asari followed closely in his wake.

"I owe you one," Shepard spoke as she wiped the sweat and gore from her eyes.

"Woulda got him sooner, but you were in the way of a clear shot. You really pissed him off, didn't you?" Dumas chuckled as he studied Shepard's bloody brow. "I thought you were a goner, but then you knocked him on his ass and got out of the way. You can take a blow like the best of 'em, though."

"Do you think the four of us can hold this position? The barricade's dust, but if we use biotic barriers…" Just like that, Shepard was back to work. No time for congratulations or back-slapping when the battle still raged on.

"We will do what we must," the first asari spoke with conviction. "I failed to hold this barricade once; I will not fail a second time."

The second asari, clad in nothing but a revealing dancer outfit, strode forward and engulfed them in a strong biotic dome. The other three took that as a cue and jumped into action. It was pure luck that the area hadn't been overrun while Shepard and the krogan tangled, and they couldn't count on that luck holding out. Everyone else had picked up the slack, keeping the invaders off them, and it was time to repay their efforts.

The first asari conjured a strong singularity in the middle of the carnage. Several unsuspecting mercs were dragged into the vortex and swirled helplessly, and people stationed along the other barricades finished the attack. Shepard threw warps at the heavily armored combatants that were too much for the singularities and Dumas picked them off once they were weakened. They got into a comfortable flow, using one another's strengths to deal with the enemy effectively. Of course, it was only a matter of time before the invaders noticed the pattern and changed tactics. Smaller, less armored attackers used their larger and heavier comrades as shields to skirt the singularities, as their mass was too much for the swirls. Without the assistance of the singularities, there were just too many to deal with at once.

Frustrated, Shepard threw a strong warp at one of the shielding krogan. He was prepared, and jumped out of the way. Time seemed to slow as the warp flew past the target and continue directly towards an empty singularity spinning in the distance. Shepard's stomach dropped. Human biotics were rare enough that she'd never worked with another, and other species weren't exactly forthcoming in biotic tactics, so she had no idea what to expect when they collided, but the possibilities terrified her.

Blinding blue light accompanied a large explosion as the two biotic attacks collided; a shockwave strong enough to knock everyone in close proximity off their feet rippled outward from the center. Shepard and the asari both froze momentarily as they took in the chaos before looking at one another with wide eyes.

A feral grin spread across Shepard's face. "This is going to be fun." Her green eyes danced in the dimming light. The two asari next to her grinned as Dumas barked a deep laugh.

"At least we'll go out with a bang, eh?" His speech was crisp, all traces of the slur completely gone. There was a fire and mirth to his voice that hadn't been there before, and its presence was almost soothing.

"We aren't going anywhere, Dumas. We've got this."

The two asari traded tasks, each picking up where the other left off. The dancer threw out a singularity so powerful it made Shepard question how she ended up in that particular career. Maybe the money was too good to pass up. Or maybe she just really enjoyed it. It wasn't Shepard's place to judge. The churning blue energy spun patiently in the middle of the battlefield, waiting for unsuspecting individuals who now knew enough to avoid it. Shepard did it one better – she carefully aimed another warp at the swirling center and detonated it with a wild glee; the ensuing explosion tore through several more troops with ease. The few other biotics within the resistance didn't need direct instructions to understand the new tactic. Within minutes biotic explosions rocked everything within the attack zone. Everyone else took the opportunity to pick off stray combatants while they staggered.

The resistance kept the pressure up as the sun set, but they were not equipped for a night battle. Hell, they weren't properly equipped for _any_ battle. They proved to be a capable bunch, but now that they were flying blind it was only a matter of time before the enemy gained on them. Thick heavy darkness fell over them, so oppressive it practically obscured sound and obfuscated every advantage they'd had. The non-biotics had to rely on the flash of biotic explosions to illuminate the enemy, leaving mere seconds to aim and fire. To make matters worse, the biotics were beginning to tire. The two asari at her station were struggling just to maintain a weak barrier, and their singularities were little more than glowing blue puffs of smoke.

Shepard was a trained soldier – she knew how desperate the situation was. They had to maintain this position for the safety and security for Elysium, for the continued _existence_ of Elysium. Digging through a hidden compartment in her armor, Shepard found something that would help in the short-term, at least.

"Take a breather and refuel. I've got the barrier." Shepard tossed the energy bars she'd grabbed from the station to the waiting asari. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the dusty void of the ruined barricade alongside the second asari.

Shepard had been using her left hand exclusively since her little run-in with the krogan. The pain that radiated up her arm with that biotic punch pretty much guaranteed a dislocated wrist at best, but several broken bones in her hand and arm were more likely, and she didn't want to find out the hard way. This was one of those times her stubborn need to be over-prepared had come in handy, as she'd taught herself to be ambidextrous as a child. Unfortunately, maintaining a barrier of this level required the use of both arms, especially since the biotic glow was now a beacon to the enemy – the only distinct target in the darkness.

Planting her feet firmly in a wide stance, Shepard gathered all remaining power at her disposal. Her face was a mask of fierce determination, hiding any doubts and fear lurking underneath the surface. A guttural yell tore from her dry, cracked lips as a strong biotic barrier enveloped the weaker existing one. The dark energy danced along her skin, relishing the feeling of being unbound after being hidden away for so long, denied. In that moment, as all energy seeped from her body, she realized with a small shock that she would do anything in her power to protect every life in the colony.

Maintaining the barrier was more difficult than she'd even imagined; it was beyond anything she'd ever attempted, but she would not fail – she couldn't. Her knees trembled from effort, but it only reinforced her drive. Gritting her teeth, she pushed harder. The base of Shepard's neck started to grow uncomfortably warm; her underused amp now pushed to its limits. Sweat mixed with the blood on her face creating rust-colored streams that streaked her features and burned her eyes, but she would not ease up. All eyes were on her. She was their leader, and they were looking to her in their moment of need. She could not show any weakness.


	7. Chapter 7

Night descended fully on Elysium, enveloping all in an inky shroud. Power to the embattled district had been cut, either as a purposeful act of the invading forces or as an accidental casualty of the fight, but the result was the same: the invaders and resistance alike were shrouded in complete darkness and the moonless sky offered no additional illumination. Stars glittered like jewels against the velvety blackness, their light too weak for anything other than ornamentation, yet the effects were tantalizing. The night sky was eerily reminiscent of the splendid views offered from space without distortion from thick layers of glass insulation. At any other time the dark beauty would have Shepard's undivided attention, but now was not the time for such luxuries. What was normally a calming visual reminder of Shepard's true home was now a horrifying, yet unwitting conspirator. The darkness concealed the approaching enemy and made her task exponentially more difficult. Everyone relied solely on the flashes of gunfire and biotics to illuminate their targets, since the sudden changes in light made it impossible for their eyes to fully adjust to the darkness. All the additional stress of this new element wore on the already exhausted fighters, who had been at it longer than anyone could tell. They no longer had the moving shadows to mark the passage of time, but the clicks of empty weapons and overwhelming fatigue told Shepard they'd been at this too long, and time was almost out.

"Any word, Dumas?" Shepard leaned close to the old soldier as she spoke, careful to keep the discussion as private as possible. In reality, the gunfire drowned out everything quieter than a shout, but she wanted to keep hope alive in her team as long as possible.

The old soldier barely twitched his head as he kept his eye trained on a shadow moving within the darkness, his gun tracking the movement between bursts of light. "Communications are down – dropped as the ground forces rolled in," he kept his gruff voice a whisper as he answered, attention never straying from his target. A pale burst of biotics illuminated the field for a brief second, but it was long enough for him take down the sneaky pirate. Only then did he look Shepard in the eye. "I'd bet a month's salary they're jamming them – waited they rolled in to keep suspicions down. People tend to notice when a whole colony goes dark, but it's usually too late by then."

Shepard held her position as she carefully considered the situation, her mind sluggish from the amount of energy directed towards maintaining the barrier. There were no other options, though. The two asari nestled behind the barrier struggled to remain upright, their bodies taxed to the limit. They were in no shape to assist at this point, so it was all on her. The barrier had to hold.

She pushed past the brain fog to shape the question that so desperately needed an answer. "You're positive the Alliance is en route, that help is on the way?"

Gunfire erupted once more, the bursts illuminating the dismal landscape and drowning out the answer that held all the hope she had left. The bullets ricocheted off her biotic barrier in small blue sparks. A gasp escaped Shepard's cracked lips as she dug down to find the strength needed to maintain the shield against the onslaught, but it did not fall. It would hold as long as life still flowed through her tortured body. Sweat and blood that once freely poured down her form had long since gelled in the cool night air causing the armor to stick to her, melding the organic and synthetic materials. She'd grown blind to that sensation, but a new one caught her attention. Warmth trickled from her nose, running down her lip and dripping freely onto the ground at her feet. One flick of her tongue revealed her worst fear: blood. A nose bleed was a very bad sign.

"Kid, did you hear me?" Dumas called out, his voice unnaturally far away. Concern etched his weathered features as Shepard tried to focus on him, her head shaking slowly. He nodded and repeated himself. "I spoke with Hackett directly. Help is on the way."

"Then we just need to hold on until they arrive," Shepard reassured herself, the quiet words slurring together.

Long periods of silence stretched between the violent sounds of battle as both sides struggled to keep going. Soft footfalls followed by sharp cries echoed through the open streets in random bursts as infiltrators were caught trying to sneak over barricades, traditional tactics thrown out from ammo shortages and enshrouding darkness. The battle was getting more hands-on, more personal. It wouldn't be long until it devolved into hand-to-hand combat… if they lasted that long.

Soft footfalls approached Shepard's position head-on, the steady rhythm revealing a single combatant. Dumas closed his eyes and followed the movement with this gun, depending solely on hearing to track the invader. A shadow of movement flickered in the soft glow of the barrier, so faint it was almost felt rather than seen, but it was enough. Dumas pulled the trigger. Soft clicks echoed through the air, the sound of an empty cartridge almost deafening in the moment. A quiet chuckle answered from the darkness, several other voices joining in from a distance.

"Shit, I may as well throw the damn thing at them." Dumas muttered as he dropped the weapon. "I was hoping I wouldn't need these," he added as he pulled two knives free, tucking them alongside his arms to hide the telltale glint of metal in the dull biotic light.

The footfalls grew louder as more combatants surged on their location. Word got out that they were sitting ducks, and the enemy was intent to exploit that weakness and turn their collective might against it. Shepard gritted her teeth and forced more energy into the barrier despite all the warning signs. Cold, blissful numbness seeped down her arms, finally drowning out the pain that'd throbbed in her right arm with each and every beat of her heart – which seemed to be slowing. Time was running out.

Shepard made eye contact with Dumas and gestured for him and the asari to come closer. Somehow, the older man understood the sloppy jerk of the blonde head. The small crew behind the biotic barrier gathered together.

"I can't hold this much longer, and they're waiting just out of reach," Shepard explained to her crew, her voice so low to be almost imperceptible even at such a close distance. "Find something to use as a weapon. When I can't hold it any longer, I'll push the barrier at them. Hopefully that will buy us enough time to attack."

Shepard swayed dangerously on the spot, the minute energy required for speaking almost taxing her past her limit. The grim faces around her dimmed for a moment as she steeled her spine, but she stubbornly refused to fall. It wasn't time yet. Once she was steady once more, the small group set to task; acutely aware time was of the essence.

With her strength waning fast, Shepard looked to the skies. The stars, her real home, comforted her as she slowly gave everything she had to this small colony. If she had to die, she wanted that last image burned into her mind, the vast haunting beauty of the universe embracing her. Shadows slid through her vision, blotting out the stars. Shepard closed her eyes to stem the slow burn of panic as the world dimmed around her. A deep, steadying breath filled her lungs as she pulled every miniscule scrap of energy at her disposal to the forefront. It was now or never.

The deafening boom of an explosion rocked them violently, bright orange flames illuminating the battlefield like the midday sun. Shepard's eyes flew open in shock as a second explosion erupted. The dazzling light emanating from the docking area hurt to look upon, but she couldn't draw her gaze away. The barrier fizzled out without her undivided attention, but it didn't matter – all eyes were drawn to the vibrant chaos.

Time froze as everyone turned, uncomprehending, to the enflamed docks and the pandemonium taking place just out of view. The flickering glow was beautiful and enchanting, almost surreal enough to be a figment of a desperate imagination lulling the senses to complacency. Only the panicked shrieks and acrid smoke of burning flesh assured Shepard this was reality. It was still difficult for her exhausted mind to process the events, but one thing was clear: they had to hold their position. They weren't clear yet.

Another series of explosions reverberated through the streets. Small hot debris rained down on them from thick clouds billowing from the docking area, blotting out some of the fires' light. Everything took on an eerie, nightmarish glow as distorted shadows leapt about in lurid glee. Enemy forces stumbled about the combat zone in clear panic, tripping over the bodies of their fallen comrades in their haste to get away. They only had two choices: run into the flames, or overtake the forces protecting the colony. They turned en mass to face the resistance fighters behind the barricades, a look of grim determination on their faces.

"Don't let them pass!" Shepard barked to her troops, her voice strong and sure. "We have their balls to the wall, now we just need to hold them."

The encouraging shouts attracted unwanted attention from the enemy, but it was a small price to pay. Shepard's forces needed that rallying cry, and it worked. The shadows of the enemy danced in the blaze making them easy targets for the renewed resistance fighters, and they took full advantage. Shouts of pain filled the air as enemies dropped to the ground; victims of whatever was at hand that could be weaponized.

"Take out the leader!" a deep, guttural voice called out from the middle of the battlefield. A swarm of enemies turned as one and surged on Shepard's location, intent on quieting her. Fortunately, her team was just as intent on taking the enemy down; they threw everything they had at the foes. Weak biotics, bullets, and knives, as well as debris littering the ground were put to use to knock the invading forces back. Within a few moments the barricades were breached, but the resistance fighters physically beat the invaders back in hand-to-hand combat. The scene devolved to bedlam as both sides threw everything they had into the fight, passionate yells filling the night air. This was going to end one way or another so they couldn't afford to hold anything back.

A dark shadow blotted out the light directly in front of Shepard. She frantically pushed out with her biotics, but there was nothing left. She was unarmed and injured. A leering grin spread across the shadowed face, his razor-sharp teeth and four eyes gleaming dangerously in the low light as a wicked-looking blade in his right hand caught the dancing light. Her stomach dropped as she realized there was no escape. Her body was simply too exhausted to react in time.

The blade came whistling down in a vicious swipe, the breeze fluttering against her neck. He'd miscalculated the distance in the flickering glow of the fires. Moving purely on instinct and training, Shepard struck out at his extended arm and encircled his wrist with her left hand. The bones cracked wetly under her hand and the blade clattered to the ground, but the batarian never slowed. Murder filled his eyes, and they were trained on her. His good arm struck out in a flash, his aim true. Shepard's head jerked to the side as stars danced in her head and the familiar copper taste of blood filled her mouth. She staggered backward, fighting gravity with every ounce of strength she had. It would be all over the second she hit the ground.

A shriek filled the air, drowning out the cacophony surrounding them. A moment later the batarian lurched forward, his face the picture of shock. A large mass on the alien's back forced him forward, the additional weight too much for his arms to support. The bones cracked as they gave way, followed by the solid thud of his face hitting the ground. His face slammed repeatedly into the earth, the sounds getting wetter with each hit.

"He's dead, son." Dumas spoke with an almost gentle tone as he kneeled over the fallen batarian, the old soldier's body blocking Shepard's view of the macabre scene. "You can stop. He won't get back up, I promise." He slowly stood, pulling another figure upright in the process.

Shepard gasped as she recognized the figure before her. Blood distorted Jayden's pale features as he stared wide-eyed at the grisly scene he'd caused. The batarian lay unrecognizable at his feet, the face caved in completely. Shepard spat on the ground, her blood further darkening the already stained pavement, and approached the colonist.

"Thank you, Jayden. You saved my life." Shepard tried to smile, but he swollen features pulled uncomfortably. The young man didn't respond at all. Her voice couldn't penetrate the fog of shock insulating him, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. There was no response. "Get him to safety," she barked to anyone close enough to respond. He saved her, now she had to return the favor.

A shout emanated from deep within the chaotic battlefield. The words were lost in the din, but the few mercs still standing turned and ran for the docking area at full speed. They'd called for retreat, deciding to cut their losses. It was a foolish act of desperation, as they were jumping from the frying pan into the fire. The resistance force let them flee, too tired and ill-equipped to give chase.

The fleeing mercs dropped like flies, cut down well before reaching their target by whatever or whoever caused the explosions.

"Hold your fire!" Shepard yelled out at the top of her lungs. The order was meant for her team as well as those approaching from the docks. Hopefully they heard and would listen, because it would be a horrible twist of fate to be cut down by friendly fire after all they'd survived. Then another, even worse thought occurred to her. "Hold your positions!" she instructed. There was no guarantee the new forces were friendly, so she made no move and demanded her people to do the same. Not that they had anything left in them to fight another wave if it came to it. There was nothing to do now but wait.

Random shouts echoed from the distance, the indiscernible two syllables repeated multiple times by one deep voice. Flashlights pierced the smoky veil between the docking entrance and the besieged district; the beams swept in wide arcs over the grisly field of bodies littering the ground, every pass coming nearer and nearer to the barricades. Shepard calmly retrieved the blade at her feet from the thickening pool of its owner's blood and stood tall. Elysium's defenders looked to her, unsure how to treat this new element, and she knew it. Fortunately, they couldn't see the blanching of her fingers as she squeezed the blade's hilt, or the way she held her breath, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Damn it, get some real light out here," the deep voice ordered. Footsteps scurried away as the man started calling out once more. Suddenly the random shouts made sense: they were calling for her by name.

Shepard gasped and dropped the weapon, the blade clattered to the ground. The professional drill-instructor edge to the man's voice sent even the most seasoned soldier running, but she heard the concern bubbling in the undertones. To be fair, she knew the man better than almost anyone else. She would recognize that voice anywhere. They were safe.

Bright light spilled over the streets, illuminating the garish impromptu battlefield. Shepard blinked furiously to adjust her eyes, momentarily frozen in place by blindness.

"Anderson?" she called out tentatively, suddenly worried her senses were playing tricks on her.

Heavy footfalls drew close and the blurry image of a man in an Alliance uniform appeared in front of her. Shepard snapped to attention with a stiff salute.

"You are hereby relieved of duty, Corporal Shepard." Anderson returned the salute as he spoke; his relieved smile was barely visible in the shadows cast by the powerful light.

"About time you made it, sir." Shepard tried to grin, but her face was too wounded and swollen to pull it off.

"Looks like you held up pretty well until we got her, though." His dark eyes studied her face with obvious concern. "You look like hell, kid."

"Oh, good; that's a relief. That's the first thing a girl likes to hear, by the way."

"Smartass," Anderson muttered. Then he threw decorum out the window and pulled the young soldier into a warm embrace. "You had me worried, kid, but you did us proud," he whispered into her hair. The momentary lapse behind them, Anderson stood back and took in the carnage surrounding them, shaking his head in disbelief. "Looks like the Alliance owes you another shore leave."

"Don't you dare; I'll never forgive you…" Shepard hissed.

A few invaders were apprehended as the Alliance swept in, but the ground war was over and the resistance team relieved of duty. Their battle was finished and they surpassed any and all expectations. The debrief was fast and chaotic since it involved so many non-Alliance, but Anderson pulled it off without a hitch. Shepard stood with her team throughout the proceedings despite her injuries. The armor clung to her body uncomfortably, but she ignored it. She was not able to ignore the occasional bright flashes in her eyes and ringing in her ears, but she didn't dare show her discomfort. People were watching her uncomfortably close as it was, just waiting to whisk her away, but she was bound and determined to make sure each and every one of the volunteers received proper recognition for their heroic service. Sheer stubbornness kept her going, but even a will as strong as Shepard's had its limits. The world tunneled so everything in her peripheral vision disappeared. There were only two more people left, so she grasped the wall next to her and held on for dear life. The room darkened and Anderson's voice grew steadily more distant, until she heard the word 'dismissed'. That was the last thing she remembered.


	8. Chapter 8

Consciousness pulled at Shepard, but she didn't want any part of it; exhaustion seeped from her very core, the weight of her body heavy and unwilling to respond, and more sleep was the only solution. Unfortunately, her mind refused to cooperate. It was as if she received a full pot of coffee injected directly into her brain, which somehow managed to completely bypass her body. Even she recognized a lost cause every once in awhile. Heaving a deep, resentful sigh, she stretched her weary body in the hopes that the movements would get her blood flowing enough to wake her completely. Maybe her eyes would even cooperate once her body woke up.

The smallest movement, little more than the flexing of her arms, caused pain to shoot through her, engulfing her entire body with searing pain. A sharp hiss tore from her lips as her eyes shot open. That was _one_ way to wake up completely – one she'd willingly go the rest of her life without repeating if at all possible.

A sterile environment welcomed her, but something was… off. She stared at the plain white ceiling as it slowly dawned on her; she was only seeing things on the right side of the room, but she could feel both eyelids open. Slow, deep breaths kept panic at bay as she struggled to stay rational, but her eyes welled up anyway. She blinked furiously to prevent the forming tears from breaking free, the small act not only soothing, but actually helping solve the mystery; the lashes of her left eye gently brushed against something with every blink, so it was simply covered. That's when she remembered the smug krogan head-butting her, causing her eyebrow to burst open.

"I wish that son of a pyjak was still alive so I could kill him all over again," she quietly cursed as she put the pieces together.

A deep laugh reverberated throughout the barren walls of her room. Someone was in there with her; they'd been there the entire time and she'd been completely unaware. Shock and fear coursed through her, causing her to flare unintentionally. Both hands tried to fly up to cradle her skull as a burning pain encapsulated the base of her head, radiating outwards as if her very nerves were aflame, but gentle hands kept them from reaching their goal.

"Careful, your body's still in pretty bad shape, kid. And you should lay off the biotics for a bit, too. You have a nasty concussion and your amp got quite the workout, so the doctors had a lot of swelling to deal with. Not sure if it's all cleared up yet."

Shepard knew that voice anywhere. "Anderson, how long was I out?"

His dark features slowly took shape as he lowered himself into her line of sight, but everything was slightly distorted as if she was looking up at him from the bottom of a pool of water. The touch of concern behind his comforting smile was obvious despite his warped image.

"Almost three days; most of that was medically induced to give your brain time to heal. I was hoping I could be here when you woke up, but wasn't sure since they gave me orders to ship out tomorrow. Fortunately, you're a fast healer so they were able to take you off the meds an hour ago." He studied her intently, affection naked on his features. It was rare for him to be so open. "You gave us quite a scare. It wasn't until you passed out that we discovered just how injured you really were. Your armor hid the wound in your abdomen and you're just too damn stubborn to admit when you're hurt."

"Corporal Morgan sealed that with MediGel. There was no reason to report that," Shepard responded defensively.

"That may be, but your armor was completely saturated with your blood. It'd ruptured back open at some point, most likely from a blunt force based on the injury. You're just lucky your body heals itself as fast as it does, otherwise you'd probably have bled out on the field."

"It must've been when that damn krogan charged me." Shepard thought back to the fateful surprise hit – the way her body smacked on the ground jarring the air from her lungs, how she was unable to regain her feet, the smug look on her attacker's grizzled face as he hoisted her up. That was definitely when it happened. "Now I _really_ wish I could kill him all over again."

Anderson merely nodded in understanding.

"Is she ok? Corporal Morgan, I mean."

"Absolutely, thanks to you; she told me everything. In light of recent events the Alliance is establishing a larger presence on Elysium and offered her a position; she accepted." He paused to look down on Shepard, smiling proudly. "It's a hell of a thing you managed down there, Shepard. You kept the entire colony safe without a single fatality."

"Not true, sir. The entire security team was slain, as well as everyone in the docking area. Dumas said there was at least one fatality in the ambush at the recruitment center as well." She frowned deeply despite the pain it caused her tight, blistered skin.

"You're a soldier, Shepard. You know you can't save them all. You did more than anyone thought possible, though. Think of all the innocents you _did_ save," he soothed as he gently patted her right arm.

That was when she finally noticed the cast stretching from her fingertips past her elbow. There was even a crude message scrolled along the side in Joker's unmistakable handwriting. At least she hadn't been forgotten. A wry grin tugged at her lips as she realized what could've happened just moments earlier. It was a damn good thing Anderson stopped her from grabbing her head as she woke up, since that cast would've knocked her right back out.

"You need to get some rest. I should go before the doctors come chase me out." The old soldier patted her arm affectionately.

Shepard watched the familiar form retreat through the open door, leaving her completely alone in this unfamiliar environment. It wasn't the first time she was laid up in an Alliance hospital, and certainly wouldn't be the last, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Hours stretched into days, and it wasn't long before Shepard realized that an extended hospital stay was one thing that drove her crazy even faster than forced shore leave. Tubes and wires strung from various body parts to machines throughout the room, physically tying her to bed. Injuries of varying severity covered her body from head to toe, including several bone fractures, swelling in her skull, numerous lacerations, and a nasty infection thanks to the first invader's dirty earpiece. That meant she had to be monitored closely at all times, leaving her stuck in bed for over a week.

Vids provided a momentary distraction to the mind-numbing monotony, but practically everything she queued up was eventually interrupted by stories featuring her. Somehow the video she sent across Elysium's warning system was leaked and ended up plastered everywhere. Admittedly, her appearance in the video was a stark contrast to the stereotypical war hero; she looked more like a tourist ad with the way her bright green eyes danced passionately under one busted eyebrow, her long blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail to highlight the freckles standing brightly across her nose and cheekbones… minus the bloody brow, of course. It was painful ironic that the image she specifically created to hide behind while on shore leave was now being broadcast to the far corners of the galaxy.

The galaxy as a whole often had a ten-minute attention span, so Shepard set the vids aside for a few days until everything blew over. Unfortunately, things only got worse by the time she tried them again. Surprisingly, the events of Elysium only garnered more attention, with the media as a whole even going so far as to give the skirmish a dramatic, media-friendly name of The Skyllian Blitz. In fact, the entire story had morphed into a grand tale of one young girl single-handedly holding off an entire invading force. The whole thing made her sick to her stomach. All the sacrifices, all the blood, sweat, and tears shed by everyone who rushed to Elysium's defense had been swept under the table for the most sensational tale possible. They were quick to give the people what they wanted, the truth be damned.

Disgusted, Shepard turned off every electronic device in her possession and begged the nurses to track down something, anything, to keep her occupied. Her favorite nurse triumphantly returned with a tattered old book and Shepard dove in, desperate for a distraction. What to some was little more than an obsolete form of fictional entertainment became Shepard's constant companion; she was unwilling to let it disappear as things often did in such environments, so she began keeping it on her even as she slept.

Shepard napped with the book open, face-down on her chest so she wouldn't lose her place as she slept. It was a light sleep, so she woke with a start as the book moved, her hand shooting out to catch it before it fell, but it was not gravity that disturbed her sole source of distraction; a strong hand held the book aloft.

"Dad, what are you doing here? I'm sure you have more important things to do than watch me sleep."

The scarred older man laughed, but the mirth was colored with bitterness. "I'm here on official business," he replied coolly.

Shepard felt a twinge of guilt; her offhanded remark hit a raw nerve, and it wasn't fair of her, but his businesslike reply was every bit as harsh. He was a busy man with a lot on his plate; it came with being a high-ranking officer of the Alliance. But he was still her father. A little show of concern for her wellbeing, even a hint of affection in the privacy of her room wouldn't kill him… but that wasn't who he was. She looked away from the man, suddenly interested in the slow rhythmic drip of her IV, and nodded numbly.

"You're being awarded the Star of Terra for your courageous and distinguished service, going above and beyond the call of duty. There will be an official ceremony once you're in better condition." His baritone voice paused, waiting for a response, but there was none. What could she say? She was stunned silent. So he continued, "There's one hitch though: there's to be no mention of your biotics."

Shepard snapped her head to face him, shock and anger warring within. The sudden movement tangled a few of her cords and knocked a sensor loose, sending one of the many machines into a tizzy of alarms. It was mere seconds before one of the nurses rushed in to investigate. Nobody wanted to be responsible for the death of the Hero of the Blitz, so they were on her like flies on shit.

"Ah, a loose electrode, that's an easy fix. Oh!" The nurse snapped to attention the second her eyes fell on the older man in the room, her complexion darkening with a ruddy blush. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't see you there."

"At ease," he nodded to the flustered woman. "We're in the middle of official business, though…"

The nurse practically tripped over her own feet in her haste to escape; the man had developed a reputation among newer recruits, so she didn't even wait for him to finish. His bright blue eyes twinkled with barely contained amusement as he watched her scramble. As with most reputations, a kernel of truth was buried under layers exaggerations and tall tales to create a larger-than-life persona, and he found it entertaining that people got so worked up in his presence. It was endearing, but it didn't distract Shepard this time. Her eyes narrowed on his weathered face as he turned to face her once more.

"You told me it was a gift, not a curse. You even chastised me when I refused to use it. Why are you making me hide it now, once I've fully accepted who I am?" There was no hiding her hurt, accusatory tone.

"It's not my choice; you know me better than that. This comes from the top." He sighed deeply as he collapsed into the chair at her side, steeling himself for the explanation. "Enlistments rates are shattering records by the day and it's all because of you. You did the impossible, and now everyone feels empowered – you, the tiny little blond girl on vacation."

Shepard winced at the mention of her new hair color, but her father made no notice.

"Unfortunately, there's still a fear of biotics…" he held out his hand to silence his daughter before she could interrupt, anticipating her tort response before she'd even fully opened her mouth. He waited until her lips pursed together tightly before continuing. "I know the fear is from ignorance. This would be a great opportunity to educate and boost the image of biotics, and I told them so, but I lost that battle. The top brass fear enlistment numbers will drop if the truth gets out, and that isn't a risk they're willing to take. My hands are tied."

Shepard stared blankly, not sure what to say. Her heart ached for being unceremoniously shoved back into the closet just as she embraced who she was. She still wasn't quite good enough somehow and was being forced to hide, even as they placed her on a pedestal.

"Please go with it. For me," the man held her hand as he asked too much of her, his eyes desperately searching her face.

Shepard nodded mutely and turned away.

The old soldier took that as the dismissal it was. He stood in one fluid motion and turned to leave, but paused at the very last second.

"I'm proud of you sparky bear," he whispered as he kissed the top of her head lightly.

Shepard's breath hitched at the sudden show of affection. He hadn't called her that since she'd been a small child. Tears gathered in her eyes as she realized he'd already left, and she didn't even say goodbye.

Rapid footfalls approached her room, drowning out the slow cadence of her father's steps as he disappeared into the facility. She barely had time to wipe the tears from her eyes before the nurse appeared at her side.

Wide, dark eyes shimmered with excitement as the nurse ran through her routine check. "Wow, it must be pretty amazing to have Captain Hackett visit you personally!"

"Yeah, I guess so," Shepard mumbled as she turned away.


	9. Chapter 9

Shepard's stay in the hospital was overwhelmingly lonely. He favorite nurse, Chel, hadn't been by in several days and the remaining staff was all business, coming and going with such speed and efficiency Shepard began to wonder if she was contagious with some rare alien herpes or something and they just weren't telling her. Maybe that's why Jayden looked so shocked when she and the turian were laughing about scale itch. If so, she was going to hunt him down and kill him. Unfortunately, the aloof and taciturn nurses were the only people she saw aside from the brief visit with Anderson when she woke up and Hackett's surprise stop-by, and those lasted less than half an hour combined. It was no big surprise since all her friends and family was Alliance; they all had jobs to do, especially in the wake of a blatant and well-orchestrated attack on a human colony. Knowing that didn't make her any less lonely, though.

Chel had been her solace, her one little personal ray of sunshine in the cold, industrial setting that was standard of all Alliance hospitals. They bonded over the fact that Chel was also biotic and knew the struggle, knew what it was like to hide in plain sight out of necessity. Every shift she'd walk in with treats stowed somewhere in her supplies since the hospital didn't seem to realize the caloric needs of biotics. They'd chat while Shepard savored the smuggled calorie-bombs, then Chel would abscond with the evidence. There was more to their visits than goodies and gossip, though. As an L2, Chel had battled more than her share of migraines and taught Shepard how to self-inject meds for the most immediate effects. It was only for use in the direst situations, but that little tidbit was symbolic to Shepard, proof that interaction between biotics was necessary for their health and well-being. And then she stopped coming. The returning gauntness of Shepard's cheeks was nothing compared to the emptiness she felt inside.

Shepard rolled over and saw the old, dog-eared book sat on the chair where she'd placed it days earlier. There is only so many times a person can read one book before it becomes monotonous and Shepard found and somehow surpassed it before finally setting the paperback aside with the intent of returning it. There it remained as a testament to her boredom as well as the lack of visitors. It was Chel's book; just looking at it brought back all the feelings of isolation, so Shepard closed her eyes tight.

The door swished open quietly, but Shepard remained where she was. There was nothing to gain from watching the staff rush through the motions since they never spoke to her anyway. It was easiest to just pretend to sleep.

"Good, she's sleeping. That'll make this easier." The shrill voice of the nurse who had been so struck by Hackett's presence echoed through the silent room despite the fact she appeared to be trying to whisper. Some people never seem to learn the skill. "The patient's been here almost two weeks. As you can see on the chart, she's biotic, but that information is not to leave this room. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," a much younger, slightly intimidated voice answered.

"She came in from Elysium with the other human female biotic. Use the same precautions when dealing with both patients. Clear your thoughts, keep sharp instruments shielded, don't engage in any discussions, and get in and out as quickly as possible. They may be able to read or control your mind, so limit your interactions and stay on guard at all times."

"Yes, ma'am; understood, ma'am," the second voice shook dangerously as the door swished open once more. The voices continued, but were too faint to hear as they moved on to the next room.

A cold chill filled Shepard as she thought about everything she'd just heard. The hospital was actively warning staff against the biotic patients out of fear and ignorance. They knew what she did to save Elysium, and they still feared her, perhaps even more so now that the media convinced everyone she acted alone. The Alliance wanted to reward her for all that effort, but were intent to cover up the key component to her success… no, _their_ success. It wasn't until she fully accepted that part of herself that she was able to be the soldier the resistance needed to lead them to victory, and now she was being forced to hide it yet again. And every other human biotic out there would be forced to remain second-class citizens because everyone misunderstood them and their abilities.

None of that could be changed at the moment, but there was something she could act on. There was another biotic on the floor and she was probably every bit as isolated, so there was no harm in a little visit. The staff removed Shepard's monitors shortly after Hackett's visit so she had free movement once more, but getting up and moving around had been strongly discouraged. Now she had a sneaking suspicion it had less to do with her well-being and more to do with theirs. At least she wasn't tied to the bed anymore. That'd driven her nuts.

Shepard slowly gained her feet, ignoring the flashes of dull pain when she moved the wrong way… which seemed to be _every_ way, and shrugged a robe over the stiff hospital gown to try to maintain some semblance of modesty. Although, offering the staff a glimpse of the blinding brightness of her full moon would be worth a little embarrassment. It would certainly give them something to talk about. Word would spread and she'd get an earful, though… so it wouldn't be worth it in the long run. Thinking of all the long-term effects out took the fun out of so much in life. Joker would be disappointed in her maturity in the matter.

It wasn't hard to find the other biotic's room; it was the only other one with bright orange lettering outside the door. The staff didn't notice her wandering the halls, but she didn't want to find out what would happen if she was caught outside her room. Granted, there wasn't much they _could_ do but she still didn't want to press the issue so she slid into the room before she could be discovered.

Shock and relief coursed through Shepard as her eyes fell on the woman in the bed. She'd seen those dark features once before, but it was little more than a fleeting glimpse of her blood-stained body as she was whisked her to safety. She was lucky to have survived relatively unscathed. The woman turned to face the unannounced visitor and her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the vid playing on the monitor and back again, recognition plain on her face. In that moment Shepard realized the biotic in front of her was young… barely old enough to be amped.

"You… you're Shepard, aren't you?" she asked with a girly giggle.

Shepard smiled and nodded as the door shut behind her.

It was several hours before Shepard was discovered and shooed back to her own room. The staff looked a bit relieved when they found her, since being responsible for the disappearance of the Hero of the Blitz would be a very bad thing, but they also interacted with her as little as possible. At least their fear meant little hassle for her, but ten credits said the soft click she'd heard was her door being locked. That didn't matter, though. She had other ways to get things done. Exhaustion seeped from every pore after being up and about for so long, but there was important business to conduct before she rested.

"Alliance HQ, this is Brittany, how can I direct you?" a cheery secretary greeted from Shepard's Omni-tool without even making eye contact.

"I need to speak to Captain Hackett."

"I'm sorry, ma'am; he's not available for direct contact. Please go through the proper channels." The forced cheer in the secretary's voice barely covered the condescension. Shepard sighed and put on the most diplomatic face she could muster.

"This is Corporal Shepard and I need to speak to him in regards to his personal visit the other day." Shepard didn't even mention the fact that she could see Brittany's game in the reflection of her haptic visor, so that had to give her extra diplomat points.

The secretary paled as she focused on the screen for the first time. She barely finished her rushed apology before Hackett picked up.

"Shepard, what can I do for you?" It was concerning that Shepard risked contacting him directly.

"We need to discuss what you told me in your visit," Shepard answered firmly. She didn't give him a chance to respond, though she could tell he wanted to by the way his mouth kept opening and closing like a fish out of water. If he interrupted there was a good chance she'd lose her nerve, so she spit it out all at once. "I promised I'd follow Alliance command's request and I intend to honor that, but I have a counter-request. My actions are contingent on this request, actually. The Alliance needs to do more for biotics."

Shepard took a deep, calming breath as she gathered the nerve to follow through with what she'd started. Everything was complicated by the method of communication. While it was sometimes easier to be bold when the other person wasn't standing in the same room, she had to be careful about what was said and how it was phrased. Anyone could be listening in. "I'm not sure if you noticed during your tour of the facilities here, but the treatment of the biotics being cared for leaves much to be desired. They aren't receiving sufficient calories to meet their metabolic needs, their rooms are clearly marked with bright orange warning signs, and staff is instructed to be on-guard against mind control so there is little-to-no personal interaction."

"I was not aware of that, Shepard. Thank you for bringing that to my attention."Hackett pursed his lips together until they paled, making the dangerous gleam of his bright eyes and the thick pink banding of his scars even more apparent. That look usually made grown men quake in their boots, and it was clear to see why. It was how he earned a large part of his reputation, after all.

"There's more, sir. I just spent several hours with one of the people wounded during Blitz. Honestly, it's a minor miracle she survived; I watched her barricade get hit by a grenade and she was unresponsive in a puddle of her own blood by the time I got there. This young biotic volunteered to fight for her colony and nearly lost her life in the process, and now she's being isolated like a dangerous criminal… but the Alliance failed her from the start, sir. She never received proper training to harness her abilities; there was none made available to her, so she willingly fought alongside me relying solely on instinct and what she'd figured out on her own through trial and error. And from what I gathered during our visit, those errors usually resulted in lots of pain and weeks of healing." Her green eyes met the cold blue eyes on the other side of the vid link, and she was surprised to realize she was every bit as angry as he looked. Saying it out loud and admitting the injustice of it all stirred a fire in her belly that rivaled her fathers. Fortunately, they were on the same side on this matter. At least they better be.

"As you're aware, BAaT closed down nearly a decade ago and that void remains unfilled. If families aren't wealthy enough to afford the private firms' prices or well-connected enough to hire personal tutors…" she paused pointedly, leaving his role in her education unspoken, but heavily implied. "These kids remain untrained, and that's unethical and dangerous. They are a danger to themselves and everyone around them if they're unable to control their abilities. Accidents can and will happen, and that will only breed even more distrust and fear. The time has come to turn the tide, to embrace and guide these gifted humans. The Alliance has ample connections and resources to ensure _everyone_ is properly trained. The benefits of biotics in combat zones are obvious and the results on Elysium speak for themselves. This is an opportunity the Alliance can't let slip away."

"I see your point Corporal. I'll see what I can accomplish on this front." Hackett stood with one hand thoughtfully over his mouth as faint smile peeked from underneath. "That's a very diplomatic solution. I'm sure you make your parents very proud."

"Thank you, sir." Shepard stifled a yawn. The adrenaline rush was wearing off so the additional exertion of being up and about for so long caught up fast. "I've taken up enough of your time."

"Shepard…" Hackett called out just before the call terminated, "I think you have more power in this situation than you realize. A person doesn't have to _technically_ belong to a certain group of people to commend them. If, say, the Hero of the Skyllian Blitz were to throw her support behind a certain group then her admirers may follow suit. Public approval tends to sway the tide and I suspect that would go a long way towards easing some prejudices… especially since said hero has nothing to gain from such support." Hackett winked slyly, thoroughly enjoying the shocked look his vague encouragement earned. "I'll be in contact, Shepard. Now get some rest. That's an order."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who took the time to read, review, follow and favorite this story. I appreciate any and all feedback on this.

* * *

Time spent in the hospital had been agonizingly and frustratingly slow, especially as isolated as Shepard had been the remainder of her stay, but the day had finally come. The Alliance agreed to spring her. The only catch was that she had to go through a huge ceremony before she was truly free… well, as free as any soldier could be. News of the ceremony was unwelcome but not unexpected; it went along with the decision to award her the Star of Terra. She secretly held out hope someone would just present a box, shake her hand while they smiled for a picture, and then be done with it, but that suggestion was instantly quashed. An achievement as monumental as hers required an equally monumental acknowledgement, no matter how far outside the truth the 'achievement' was at this point. As such, she was tucked away in the confines of a hospital room long past medical necessity since the powers-that-be wanted to ensure she was fully healed and camera-ready for her formal introduction to the galaxy. Apparently _any_ signs of injury destroyed the image they wanted to project. It just wouldn't do for the Hero of the Blitz to limp all hunched-over across some stupid stage.

Shepard marched across the hospital's landing pad to the transport shuttle waiting to whisk her away to Alliance Command in Vancouver. Her heart fluttered as she neared the open hatch, hopeful a familiar face would be waiting at the controls. Yes, he was still technically in training, but a trip as short as this was completely within Joker's ability. Hell, he was capable of so much more, but most people weren't willing to see past the braces and medical flag on his files. Still, a few strings could easily be pulled in this sort of situation… Shepard's expectant grin faltered as she ducked within the vehicle. Broad shoulders and a very stiff back were all the greeting she got from the pilot. Apparently a simple nod of acknowledgement was too much. Joker would've greeted her with some off-color and completely inappropriate remark. She missed that… missed the laughs, too. At least the completely silent flight was fast.

A very perky young brunette with meticulous hair and makeup met the transport as it landed. That tingling little nagging feeling crawled across the back of Shepard's mind as soon as she saw the very eager woman; the day was going to be long and unpleasant. Anyone that vivacious and cheerful at this time of morning was either trying to sell you something or was going to lead you into the depths of hell. This was clearly the second option. Sure enough, the enthusiastic former beauty queen was there to escort Shepard to a large private suite for the _five hours_ of prep scheduled before the ceremony. Apparently it takes a lot of time and effort to get a soldier like her media-ready. And a small army, based on the sheer number of people gathered within the suite. The brunette woman rushed through introductions, but Shepard missed them all. She was too focused on the largest assortment of beauty supplies ever collected in one room.

Shepard was never a girly-girl. She spent her childhood busting asses instead of breaking hearts and felt most comfortable in that role as an adult, too. Simplicity was the key. As a general rule, if a situation required more than lip balm and a bun then she was out. That kept her happy so far in her life, and was only broken when her mother intervened for special occasions… which usually started with an argument and ended with Shepard feeling completely overdone and pissed. Seeing the beauty specialists all armed with the tools of their trade just waiting to pounce left her feeling overwhelmed and completely out of her element.

A very tall, thin man with bright lavender hair that defied gravity grabbed Shepard's hand and led her to a chair positioned in front of a large, lit mirror. "Don't look so scared, honey. We're the best in the biz," he winked as he nudged her into the seat.

People descended on her like they'd been starving and she was the first fresh meal in months. For some reason it frightened her more than facing down an enemy – probably because she had to just let this happen. Hands and tools jutted into her personal space fast and furious. The whir of activity left her feeling claustrophobic and out of control, so she closed her eyes and just let it happen.

"For the love of… quit moving," an exasperated voice called out from somewhere in the murky depths of the room. Shepard tried to obey, struggling to keep her head straight against the constant yanking as instructed by the haughty voice. It took half a beat to realize who was leading the assault, but that voice was unmistakable.

Desperate for the reassurance of familiarity, Shepard opened her eyes to seek out the person behind the voice. Instead, she was greeted with the sight of something very sharp and shiny, and it was coming straight for her eyes. It was just a flash of movement, her hand quicker than her mind, and the assailing tool was airborne as Shepard jerked her head out of the way. Dramatic sighs filled the room, drowning out the solid thump of the tool embedding into the wall. One second of base instinct taking over undid all the work so far.

"I swear, it's like you never put on makeup before," the voice chided from directly behind the chair as the reflection of cool blue eyes locked on Shepard's. There was no mistaking their relation; the family resemblance was uncanny.

" _That_ was not makeup, mother." Shepard's lips turned up slightly as she tried to hold the older woman's gaze, but hands appeared out of nowhere and began yanking, tweezing, and doing who knows what else once more. She ignored them all and focused on her mother. "I don't know what it was, but it looked scarier than most of the equipment I handle… and you know what I do for a living."

"Don't be so dramatic, dear. A little grooming never killed anyone. Not from lack of effort on your part just now," the elder Shepard sighed as she gestured towards grooming tool embedded in the far wall. "If you spent a little more time on your appearance we wouldn't have so much work ahead of us today. You could be so pretty with just a little effort…"

"Thanks," was Shepard's terse response as her lips pulled in to a tight pucker. Backhanded compliments were one of her mother's strengths. At least she got it out of the way at the start of the day this time. It was much easier than sitting around waiting for it to drop, because it always appeared eventually.

"Oh sweetie, don't take everything so personally. I'm looking out for your best interests." Hannah shooed away the makeover team with nothing more than a stern look, then stepped into the now-vacant space and hugged her daughter from behind. There was no response. Wrinkles creased her features, instantly aging her by decades as she stared down the smooth reflection of her child. The cold shoulder was an unpleasant but completely expected response. "I'm sorry I didn't visit while you were recovering. I was really busy with work…"

Shepard remained stiff-backed as she watched her mother carefully. There was no doubt Hannah had been busy; Shepard kicked down a hornet nest and the Alliance was tasked with cleaning up the angry swarm. Everyone was busy. But they both knew an exception would've been made if Hannah pressed the issue. It was always possible to find a few hours within 6 weeks if she really wanted it. That just wasn't who her mother was, though.

"I'm glad you're here now," Shepard finally responded. They couldn't change the past, so it was best to focus on the present.

"So am I, sweetheart, but I'm here on official business, too. I've been recruited by _someone_ in the upper echelon to keep you in line." Hannah winked knowingly. "I also got the bonus task of acting as your delivery service."

Shepard watched her mother carefully as she took the items she was handed. This was a surprise. She studied the small bundle in her hands, too focused on the mysterious package to care that she'd been surrounded once more. There was only one way to find out what was so important it required hand-delivering.

A data pad lay on top of a small box within the bundle. Reading would be difficult with all the tugging her head was currently enduring, so she laid the pad aside and focused on the box. It was an unremarkable container. The only blemish to the plain beige package was her name scrawled across the top in sharp chicken-scratch. That was all she needed. Running one finger along the perimeter, the seal gave with a soft pop to reveal the confusing duo within: a new amp and sunscreen. Shepard turned to face her mother, unsure what the contents were supposed to mean, but two very slender yet firm hands smelling faintly of pomade held her fast, preventing any movement. Resigned, Shepard dug deeper in the box for an explanation. That's when she found the small, hand-written note in the same barely-legible writing. The writing would be difficult to read in any environment. As it was, she had to keep moving her arm to keep up with the jerking motion of her head and it took several minutes to decipher.

 _Shepard,_

 _I don't agree with the decisions made by top brass, but you can use it to your advantage. You have a secret weapon your enemies won't be prepared for. Learn how to wield that to the best of your abilities when you report to N-School in Rio next month. I wanted to deliver this in person, but you know how it goes… Congrats, kid, you earned it. I know you'll do me proud. Just don't forget the sunscreen – I saw what you looked like after one day in the Elysium sun, and Rio's a lot less forgiving._

 _Anderson_

Shepard looked up from the box in her lap, her face dangerously pale. "Did you know about this?" Shepard called out, eyes wide with shock. The beauty team may not let her move, but they couldn't keep her quiet. That didn't stop them from making little noises of frustration, though.

Hannah stepped forward, silencing the most theatrical huffs with a single glance, and took the note. It was nice to see she was as irritated with the drama-filled beauty team as well. Both perfectly-manicured eyebrows shot up and a huge smile spread across the proud mother's face almost instantly as she read the short letter.

"This is wonderful! You'll do great; you deserve this chance."

"I don't deserve this… any of this. I was just in the right place at the right time," Shepard spoke into her lap as she shook her head, refusing to meet her mother's eyes.

"Don't be silly. You managed an amazing feat. You held off an entire army without a single casualty!"

"That isn't true. A lot of people died because I wasn't fast enough to save them." Shepard's voice was barely above a whisper, almost impossible to hear over the ambient sounds of the assembled crew.

"Alright, everyone out of the room; I need a few moments with my daughter," Hannah ordered, and every single person in the room immediately dropped everything and left without hesitation. That was the type of response she was accustomed to. A commanding, almost intimidating aura radiated from her very being, a trait also exhibited by her daughter since birth. It was a Shepard thing.

Both women waited in silence the scant few moments it took for the room to empty completely. The sheer size of the cavernous accommodations was apparent once the small horde escaped into the halls. It was only then that Hannah knelt by her daughter's side. "How are you doing, really? And before you answer, remember that I'm asking as your mother and will know if you aren't being completely honest." Placing a loving yet firm hand under her chin, Hannah lifted her daughter's face until their eyes met. "You look like you need to talk. I'll listen… no judgment."

Shepard sighed, releasing the weight that lay heavily on her heart. "I hate this, mom; the position they're putting me in. I didn't ask for this – _any_ of this. I just did what I had to."

Hannah leaned in and put a comforting arm around her daughter. She'd always been so independent, so damn stubborn, that Hannah often forgot how young she really was. But the raw, open look of fear made her daughter look like a teenager again, and that made Hannah's heart ache. "I know, honey, but nobody really asks for this. Well, some do, but they're never the ones who can actually handle it. But you… You'll be able to handle it."

"I don't know about that, mom. I just… I feel so damn isolated. I don't know how else to put it." Shepard shrugged in frustration. "Everywhere I look a bastardized version of me is staring back. Everyone knows my name… well, my last name, but I didn't speak to a single person in the last month. I'm still a topic on every news show, with people scrambling to tell the galaxy how well they knew me, but nobody even bothered to actually come see me. Even the hospital staff avoided me – they were afraid I'd read their minds or control them or something equally asinine. And I'm supposed to keep my mouth shut about my _condition_ because it would hurt recruiting… I… I feel like a giant baby and you don't need to listen to me throw a tantrum." Shepard pulled away, suddenly aware of how raw her emotions actually were. Giving voice to them only made them stronger, and thus more dangerous.

"Shhhh, calm down," Hannah soothed as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug, relishing the moment her daughter finally melted into the embrace. "I know it's rough, but that's all part of military life. I warned you about the hard parts, but you chose this path anyway, just like I knew you would. It's part of you and always has been. You just have to learn not to take it all so personally."

Hannah pulled back to really look at her daughter. It had been years since she took the time to do so, and her heart ached when she realized just how mature the young woman was. Time flew by in a blink of an eye. It was time she knew.

"I know exactly how you feel. I went through the same thing when I was pregnant with you." Hannah ignored the surprised look on her daughter's face and pressed on. "It was a huge scandal, you know. We'd been in deep space for several months when I suddenly became pregnant, so there was no question what had happened. Top brass offered leniency if I gave up your father so we could share the punishment, but I refused. He had a promising career ahead of him. I couldn't jeopardize that. They kept me under close observation when I refused to answer, so I had to keep your father away from me… us… to protect him. I became a pariah. People I thought were my friends disappeared, afraid they'd get pulled in to the scandal, too. When all was said and done, the young doctor on the ship was the only person who'd speak to me. Honestly, she's probably solely responsible for my sanity. It was the loneliest I've ever been, but it was worth it."

"I'm sorry. I… I didn't know I caused you so much trouble." Shepard blinked back her tears as she spoke.

"Don't be ridiculous! You didn't have any say in the matter, and I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat." Hannah smiled as she squeezed her daughter's hand. "I didn't tell you that to make you feel guilty! I just wanted you to know I understand, and it will get better. You'll find the people willing to share the load eventually, and you're strong enough to carry it on your own in the meantime."

"I think this will make you feel a bit better," Hannah added as she pulled the data pad from her daughter's lap and turned it on.

Shepard eyed the OSD suspiciously as she pulled it closer. Skimming the contents quickly, she was unsure of what she was supposed to see. A short note sat atop a generic media transcript, and none of it mentioned her in any way. A short, questioning glance to her mother didn't give her any clues, either, so she resigned herself to actually reading the entire thing.

 _Shepard, this is in regards to our last discussion. The Alliance reached an agreement with Jon Grissom to start a project that will hopefully fill the void you mentioned. Note the location of the project, as it is no coincidence. Also, the Alliance is mandating retraining of all military staff, including but not limited to hospital personnel, in regards to treatment of biotics. This is effective immediately. Thank you for bringing that to our attention. – Hackett_

The press release announced the commission of Jon Grissom Academy, a school for talented youth in a space station over Elysium. The location was an obvious connection with her, but none of the rest of it really made any sense. The stated mission was "to serve a student population demonstrating excellence and passion for math, science, and the liberal arts." That really didn't have anything to do with her. Yes, she'd been a good student, but formal education had always been available. The confusion lingered despite rereading the release several times over. Finally, she gave up and looked to her mother for any clues.

"I was briefed on this one when I picked it up," Hannah began to explain with a warm grin. "The Academy's main program is the Ascension Project. It's a human biotics training program. The Alliance is working with civilians on this, and every biotic will be welcomed. Upon completion of the program every single biotic will be given the choice to either join the Alliance or be integrated back into society."

Shepard skimmed the press release once more, now understanding the meaning behind the report. The Alliance listened to her. They were going to make things better for other biotics. She made a real difference. Tears pooled in her eyes as it all sunk in.

"Don't you start crying on me, soldier. It's going to take a few hours to get you ready as it is, so don't make it harder on us." Just like that, Staff Commander Shepard replaced Hannah Shepard the mother.

Shepard choked on a laugh as the beauty team reemerged and swarmed over her once more. The actual process of getting ready was a blur as Shepard, now content with her position in the galaxy, sat back and let it happen.

A few hours later Shepard fidgeted nervously backstage as a monotonous voice droned on. It was impossible to tell who was speaking from her position in the wings, but they seemed to be doing one hell of a job putting the assembled crowd to sleep despite the fact that her frantic call to arms was playing on a loop in the background. Hell, she was even fighting against heavy eyelids, and she had enough adrenaline pumping through her to kill a small animal. Once the words "single-handed", "miraculous", and "no casualties" met her ears, she decided it was best to tune out the drivel being spewed by the older man. At least she'd stay awake this way. Besides, someone would shove her out on stage if she missed her cue.

"What the hell did they do to you?" a familiar voice, colored with a mix of shock and amusement, call out as she turned away from the stage.

"You don't want to know," Shepard responded, wrinkling her nose as her best friend approached. She'd never been so happy to see Jeff's mug in her life, but a wide, goofy smile was all the greeting he was going to get. They weren't really the hugging type. "Just don't do anything to earn a commendation; it isn't worth it. I got your note, by the way. The nurses turned eight shades of red when I explained what it meant… so well done."

"But it made you smile, didn't it?" Joker waggled his eyebrows and they both started laughing. It was loud enough to wake a few members in the audience in the first two rows, which was probably going to earn them both a stern talking-to.

As if on cue, a large hand fell on Shepard's shoulder. She made a slightly guilty face at her friend before turning to face whatever trouble she'd earned.

"I thought you could use a little encouragement, soldier." Hackett's eyes danced as he patted her shoulder.

"I didn't think you'd make it, sir." Shepard chose her words carefully, always weary of anyone listening it, but there was no denying her happiness at his presence.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. I had to call in a few favors and catch a ride from a student pilot," he nodded at Joker before continuing, "but even that was worth it… I think." He winked at Shepard, knowing full well how much that little remark got under Joker's skin.

"I have official business, though. I'm here to make sure you follow the Alliance's story. You're an amazing soldier who single-handedly held off a large invasion…"

"Nobody would really believe I could do all that on my own, sir," Shepard interrupted.

"They already do." Hackett squared his shoulders and stared deeply into Shepard's eyes. "I know you, though; you won't take all the credit. That's just how you are. So I'm _not_ going to remind you that the vid they're playing right now was a call to arms, and it would look really bad if nobody answered that call. Because pointing that out would defeat the reason I'm here." A mischievous grin spread across the older soldier's face. The apple really didn't fall far from the tree.

"You made the Alliance… and your family... very proud. Now go get the recognition you deserve." Hackett's large hand clapped Shepard's shoulder affectionately before shoving her gently onto the stage.


End file.
